My Father

Missing my father (image from http://www.flickr.com/photos/)

The Sound of Peace

     It was my first weekly off since I moved to my new work department. After exercising my father’s arms and legs (he cannot do it yet as he is still in deep slumber of coma), I later took the bed sheets and blankets out and hooked it on our neighbor’s rusty red window railings to be bathed generously in the sun.

     I stood there for a split second, and I was greeted with stillness... it was close to peace. The kind of stillness, peace, silence and isolation I never experienced in the past few days, weeks or even months. I was welcomed with stillness.

     I viewed the surrounding squinting the whole place was covered with mid-morning, Christmas-anticipating sun rays. As I recant a step or two...

Missing my father (image from http://www.flickr.com/photos/)

Missing My Father

     I’m missing my Father. Awhile ago, I just texted Larry, a good friend of mine, on how shallowly jubilant I was on making it to the top of the mobile game I was playing for days and weeks. Dixie, my younger sister, is good at this and now she is far second. Few minutes passed and I’m silently weeping in the confine of my bed. My face against Dixie’s (my sister) pillow. Vivid memories rushed back swiftly, steam of tears flow as fast. I’m missing my father. Everything still seems surreal. As events flashed back, they seem to resemble scenes from films, the pacing was undeniably fast. I miss my father.