How the tree reminded you of your father who's now, gone…translated…
Went home to visit dad that day, the nurse's aide, Ti gave me a small jar of her homemade mahogany sauce. I'd taken it like a treasure back home, stored it in the fridge, and only when I have the cold-served tofu or when I'd made the noodles, I would, scoop a spoonful to eat it.
Ti, from a farming village in Indonesia was quick to learn, and agile too, not only did she take good care of my father in his nineties, in her spare time, she'd, made the sauces herself, and turned me into, an excellent cook, helped me find my mom's flavors, back again.
As I'd retired, and was on my own, I'd, moved back in with dad to be his company. Every day in the early mornings, we'd fought for the newspapers to read it first, after breakfast, taken the strolls at the parks, to just sit and do nothing at all, to go shopping at the local marketplaces. And, I'd also, volunteered my time, to make the books on tape and the books using braille for the blind at the city library, my days were fulfilled, and leisurely at the same time.
One day, I'd found, that in the pot out on the lot outside, there was, a mahogany of about two meters height, the truck that stood tall and sturdy, with the branches and the green leaves. Can't believe, that the nurse's aide, is also, a green thumb too, but I didn't know where she got the mahogany from, and successfully planted it and made it grow so big.
My father then, other than a bit hard of hearing, a bit slow to walk around, he could, take care of himself, it's just that he'd, choked on his food from time to time. Being unknowing, I'd only guessed, that he'd gulfed his food down too quickly, or that he'd not salivated enough, or that the foods were, a bit, too, dried, didn't pay enough attention.
Until later, as my father got up too fast, he'd, sprained his lower back, we'd gotten him an x-ray, it wasn't too serious, after he started taking the painkillers subscribed by the physician, he'd started having difficulties defecating, we'd gone to the major hospitals, to switch him to another medication, still no appetite, to the point he'd become, totally, without energy in his body then, he couldn't even sit up for meals now.
illustration from UDN.com
I'd suddenly realized, that something WAS, wrong, worried that he may have pneumonia, rushed him to the medical center to check, and surely, it was, pneumonia. After he'd been discharged from the hospital, about a week later, he'd slept, through the entire day, we'd texted his blood oxygen, less than seventy-percent, we took him to emergency room, where the attending physician signed the critical condition notice, and ever since, his health status, went, straight down, to being completely bedridden, and hooked up to a respirator to live. Our lives, schedules were turned, upside down with it, Ti stayed at the hospital to look after my father, while I'd taken over the laundry loads, the shopping for groceries, cooking, meal deliveries, and accompanied my father…………
One day, I'd walked to the back, and saw the leaves withered on the mahogany, and, my eyelids started, pulsating like, crazy. The ancients called father "mahogany trunk". And the mahogany that's out back, due to nobody watching over it, caring for it, was, dying then, could this be, a bad, omen?
Just like how the tree that started dying of not enough water, my father couldn't, defeat the years, and still, left me. And, that mahogany in my memories, became a pain that I will, always and, forever, carry.
Awhile ago, I'd found that close to where I live, someone had, planted a, mahogany, it'd felt like running into that old friend, in a foreign, place.
And now, I'm, seeing the mahogany branches swaying in the wind, but what of, my, father?
This is on grieving for your father who'd been, gone, and, you had to, say goodbye, because, unlike the plant, death becomes, permanent for all animals, and, you will grieve, but eventually, you will, slowly, recover, it just, takes time, to get over the death of your, parent.
No comments:
Post a Comment