It is more than two years my father had died. I have managed to forget even the last few days, when he was in intensive care in Somorita Hospital. It was hard to see my father sick but even harder to wait long day in hospital lobby with so much tension. It’s a pity but I have to admit that I was tired and fragile at that time and praying to god to get back my normal life. It is not only me but might be many of us know how it feels when a closest one admitted to hospital. I didn’t even anticipated what my father has done for us before those days.
Most of the hospitals in these days are immensely commercial. They took the chances of the weakest moment. No one think twice when a patient is in a bad shape, neither me.
One night when we found my father in extremely vulnerable condition, we have managed to carry him in hospital as soon as possible. When we reached the hospital it was 2:00 at night. We didn’t even know how bed his condition was. A doctor came and checked him rashly. As he didn’t tell us anything serious, we thought he might be ok. After one hour another doctor came, after some primary checkup he asked us to switch him in ICU. That was the moment I can’t even realize what I should do. Few hours later, a seat in ICU found vacant, and we switched my father in there.
It was early morning when doctors said my father is ok and we could see him. Some precautionary measures have to take before to enter ICU. I had to put on gloves and some disposable outfits. When I entered the room, I found my father destructed and supported by some life saving machinery.
As callous I am, might forget all those, but didn’t only for one reason. At the moment I see my father in ICU, one of the nurses asked him that if he could recognize me. As he was not in condition to talk. He asked the nurse (through gesture) to give him a pen and paper. After they gave him a pen and paper he wrote something on there. His hand was shaking and the words could be hardly recognized. But for me, those are not something I could misinterpret. Because, what he wrote in there was “My Son.”
"As it is a tribute to my father all spelling and grammatical mistakes should be looked forgivably."
Comments
Hi Shariar, you're right. Being a civil servant is not easy. I salute people who can still stand themselves there without receiving any extra penny. What a great father you have! I hope he is in peace now and all his good deeds are accepted by God.
He must be very proud of you. So, he really wanted to write "My Son"... Hope you'll be a great dad like him. Thanks a lot for sharing.
There are many things to talk about my father. He was a honest man. It is very hard for most of govt. employer in my country to keep themselves clean but for my father he never thought to earn an extra penny which is not legal. Moreover, he led very normal life. He never let us live extravagantly. When we asked for money to my father, he inquired and prohibited us to spend unnecessarily. In that time we thought he is not doing justice with us, whereas many of my friends could manage money from their parents to hangout or do party I felt I had been deprived. But now I know how insightful he was. He knew that money could easily spoiled a teenager. I feel very lucky to being a son of such an honest and insightful man.
I understand your feelings. When I found myself alone, I think how important my father was for me and what I have done for him, I felt really depressed. Even after two years of his death, I feel, as a son I didn't play the role I should play. I think you don't need to blame yourself. You did what you thought required to do at that moment. Now, we can do nothing but to pray to god for eternal peace of their sole.
I can understand your feeling, thanks for sharing your personal moment with us. God bless you and your father.