Recuerdos.

Two days before my father left, I drew this picture out of boredom.
Who would ever know that this sketch of Alhambra, Granada will be the one that reminds me of his last moments?

Sometimes, you will never know the true value of a moment until it become memories.




These last few days have been exhausting.
After I received a call from the hospital at 04.00 AM, found out that my father was no longer here,
everything happened so fast. The funeral, the cremation, having to satisfy everybody's desire and curiosity, it was very tiring.

I still remember, sitting at the couch next to his body, trying to tell myself that this might just be a dream.
It felt surreal, until all the condolences messages notifications popped up in my phone.
It was really happening.

Just the night before, my father was able to understand us, despite his short breathes, he replied us.
He was getting better, his respond was faster than before and things were looking good, just a little problem from all the phlegm his lungs kept producing... right?

As people said, when someone is going to pass away, they will lit brightly for a moment before it went out, like a candle.

It was time for him to go, and it was not up to me to decide when. I can only accept whatever timing that was set for him. Whenever I prayed for him, I asked for everything to go smoothly as already planned for him. I prayed to God, if it was time for him to go, please let him go swiftly in peace, let him go without going through all the pain he could have avoided.

Because I knew, I can't change fate.

Yet on that day, It was hard for me to set into reality, it took me hours until I stopped crying (because my eyes hurt). As I stopped, I began to ponder - my father did not have to go through all that radiotherapy and chemotherapy that awaits him. Maybe those are the pain that he could have avoided.

As time goes, I start to remember my actual father whom I grew with. Not my father who was fighting lung cancer. Honestly, him being sick occupied most of my thoughts lately that I forgot for a moment - he used to be such as bright person. Someone who enlighten our mood with his jokes, loves music, a great listener, a bookworm, a traveler, and great with handicraft. Lately he was turning into someone who rarely speaks, afraid to share his thoughts, leaves all his hobbies aside, doesn't like to meet people, and hides his sadness and worries all by himself. I was not able to become his light when he was slowly fading away, yet I was only able to be on his side as much as I can.

Long short, losing a father was indescribable. The next day my father died, I can only sob in my bed, feeling a part of my chest was ripped and torn. A part that I have lost and have to live forever without.

Yet, after that morning, I saw flashes of moments with him.
All sorts of memories started to appear.

Those memories gave strength to me,
my father educated me to be independent and to move forward.
Therefore, I shall go on with all the lessons he gave to me.

Thank you, Dad.