my maternal grandfather lied before me, his shrunken frame slouched over a clean white sheet atop a standard hospital bed. the air smelt strongly of disinfectants.
grandpa looked old and frail as ever. the years had not been kind to him. the winds of time had swept his once vibrant face into history and left nothing but a skeleton of his formal self. he looked just like a fruit, left unplucked through summer and slowly enduring the effects of autumn.
the tubes, they were everywhere. some ran into his arms and some ran into his nose, like venomous snakes constricting him to the bed on which he helplessly laid.
i could barely hear the sound of his husky breathing through those tubes, what little life left only visible through his eyes.
it's scary how beautiful and frightening mother nature can be. everything has an expiry date, even diamonds.
a time to live, a time to die.
20 years down the road, i can imagine myself standing at the same exact spot looking down instead at my own father. that thought scares me very much. but even now, i know i am prepared.
such depressing thoughts, such depressing work.
someone pass me a cup of euphoria?
No comments:
Post a Comment