“The way to love anything is to realise that it might be lost.”
~ G K Chesterton
Abah gave us a scare on Saturday.
This has been occurring with increasing regularity the past few years. This time he had cramps on most parts of his body (‘lack of salts’). Previously it had been a number of ailments including but not limited to issues related to prostate, shingles, AAA (that’s Abdominal Aortic Aneurysm).
I was terrified. I didn’t make the trip to Kluang because my sisters, all of them, did. And An, my brother, too. I fully understood why they went. It was terror. Fear of losing. In a word, love.
All throughout this brief period, I couldn’t do anything right. I didn’t feel like eating. Last night, I dreamt someone sent me an email. It read: “I’m sorry to say that your father has died.” Other people have died the day I dreamt of their dying. So it wasn’t something that I could have just brushed off. During the last 2 days, whenever the phone rings or there’s a text message, it was just so frightening. What if?..
It’s blown over now, the doctors have fixed it, Alhamdulillah. But this was just one scare in a string of many and this had not been the last. The time that my brothers, sisters and I fear will come. Given the circumstances, that time is not too long from now. I dread the day when the phone rings in the middle of the night. And if the caller is “Emak”, it might just be that call I dread.
The time that we have with our parents is limited. If we haven’t lost them yet, we will one day. Cherish and love them while we can, in person. In the end, all we have is time. And it’s running out. It always is.
Happy New Year!