I can’t believe that August is finally over. Time flies.
Where do I begin? It’s hard to tell. I’ve written some past entries before, but none of them got to be posted. Too long? Too old, too late? Maybe I’ve just lost my interest in doing so. All I know is that I haven’t been able to really focus on anything lately.
There are lots to tell.
Githa’s dad passed away on August 17, the same day my brother turned 30 and our country celebrated Independence Day. It was really sad.
Of course, I’d attended the funeral.
It was also the time Dad’s condition started sliding downhill…again. Forget sitting on the wheelchair like he used to do.
Now, he just lies in bed…almost motionlessly. His conscience is fading, in and out. It’s getting even harder to feed him and give him drinks. He sleeps most of the time now, with an oxygen tube in front of his nose and the tanks nearby. When his eyes are open, he’s not looking at us – not anymore.
He’s looking at something else we can’t see. (If you’re religious, you know what I’m talking about.) He’s also very, very thin.
My cousin Shari’s husband Yadi is a GP (general practitioner). He’s checked on Dad – and his answer is always the same:
“We can only wait.”
We can only wait. Sounds hopeful.
They say there’s still a miracle, but…don’t we all have to be more realistic at some point? I mean, we’re all still waiting for the verdict here. We don’t know what kind of answer that we’re going to get in the end. Is it easy? Hell, no.
It’s a sheer, mental torture.
I can’t say much for now. I’d rather not. I just hope that God doesn’t put him in too much misery any longer…