It Was A Privilege

From sindianavisions.files.wordpress.com

This morning, a close friend of mine popped up in a window chat asking if I could cook. To my surprise, her question brought me to the memory of my late father. I remember that the first time I tried to serve food was for my family’s breakfast, around a month before my father passed away. I remember trying this French toast recipe and had him taste them. He liked them so much that I served him French toast for breakfast for the whole week.

All these times, I’ve heard that those who are close to 'departing' will show changes in behavior; ‘hints’ that they are saying good-byes. This behavioral change was also shown by my father. About a month before he passed away, he became less and less grumpy. And he smiled often, even toward the simplest pleasures. It was almost like he suddenly transform into someone who was so easy to please. 

 
I remember taking a glimpse of him sitting on the terrace, only to enjoy the afternoon breeze. Unlike usual, that particular time, I didn’t find any trace of worries on his face. And the closer he reached his time, the more attentive and sweeter he became. Every single morning, about a week before he 'moved on', he would stand in front of my bedroom door, just to see what I was doing. As clueless as I was, I felt slightly annoyed being watched like that. I reminisce the one morning I eventually asked him what he was up to. He just smiled and said “I just wanna see what my daughter’s doing this morning and check if there’s still something in your room that I can fix...”

The day finally arrived. I remember on that morning, I tried a new recipe for his breakfast. That time, it was Indonesian traditional food. I asked him to watch Nat Geo while he accompanied me cooking. Normally, he would refuse watching international TV channels since he is only familiar with Bahasa Indonesia. However, that morning, as he smiled and sat behind me, he turned the TV on and watched Nat Geo. Not a single complain or cynical comment went out from his account. Funny, because he would usually do this every time he watched a show in languages he understood not. He seemed to enjoy the show, and later I even heard him laughed. It was like a dream. I have always been longing that kind of father-daughter moment.

On the afternoon, he sat on his favorite chair in front of my bedroom door while reading newspaper. I heard him calling my name and said “I don’t feel well. I will take a nap for a moment.” I knew he hasn’t been so well for the past 2 weeks. Often, he said that he got exhausted easily, along with a slight pain felt in his chest. Still, however, he refused to see the doctor as if he has made up his mind to depart soon. That afternoon, I took him to bed and once again asked him to see the doctor. He refused and said “No need. I don’t think it’s necessary.”

When I walked out his room, he told me to leave the door open (another unusual thing).

Around 15 minutes later, I heard my sister running to my father’s room. Then she called me and my mom as well. Apparently because my sis’ room was the closest room from my father’s, she could hear that my father was snoring strangely. He gave out a long and loud snoring sound and his eyes was half opened. She thought that he was choked during sleep, so she came rushing to wake him up. There I saw her trying to wake him up gently. No respond. She looked at me and I could see fear on her eyes. I tried to wake him up as well. Still no respond. We could hear him exhaled a very long sigh. It was his last breath. My heart sank, but I couldn’t feel any sadness. It was heartbreaking to see that the body in front of me contained no soul anymore. It was heartbreaking to see those half opened eyes had their sparks taken away from them. But it was a privilege to witness his departing. It was a privilege to close his eyes, close his mouth, and listen to his last breath. I still feel so grateful to be given the opportunity to be at his side until his very last moments. For me, it was another father-daughter moment.