Closure

I was never a really super religious person, but I comfort myself by thinking that God had an urgent need for more angels, so he chose and took only the best of men.

It happened so fast. I was just saying how the cancer had spread all over his intestines. Within that week, cancer cells were found in his lungs - a harbinger of doom. His sister died when her cancer spread to her lungs too.

Nevertheless, I was so optimistic and to be honest, I didn't worry at all. My father had encountered these developments countless times and survived them all. Of course, I never accounted for my uncle's immune system which had all but shut down.

A few days ago, while I was napping, there was a knock at my door. My sister said that his kidneys were failing and that he was moved the the ICU. There was no mistaking that sense of dread in her voice and face and in my heart.

Still, I had some hope. You could always get a kidney transplant, right? Or dialysis? I guess I was still in denial of the seriousness of the situation. Even as we wrote his will and watched him sign it, I kept telling myself it was just a precaution, something to fall back on if something goes wrong...which wouldn't, would it?

We went in and out of the hospital 3 times that day. I saw him in the ICU, tubes trailing in and out of his body, breathing ragged, pulse high. His hand shook as he signed. He chatted with family members for a while before the guard asked me and my sister to leave.

I waved and he looked right at me. I could have sworn there was a slight smile about his eyes. Then I knew that he knew.

His lungs failed a few hours after, and he was put on the ventilator. Funeral arrangements were made and his daughter was already on her way home from overseas. Reports showed that the cancer had spread to his bone marrow within a day - it was terminal.

It was surreal, dredging up painful memories...I was worried about how my mom would take it. But she has been a pillar of strength throughout, supporting my aunt and cousins endlessly throughout the ordeal without complaining.

Before my uncle was sedated and intubated, he expressed wishes to pull the plug and let him go. Breaking the news to my cousin was the most painful part of all.

It was a weird feeling - like things had come full circle. I felt like I was looking through a window at myself 5 years ago, though I never shed a tear at that time.

I finally knew that grief was universal. Everyone goes through the same thing at one point or another and we just have to accept it and move on. It's what your loved one would have wanted you to do.

Listening to my cousin speak, I had nothing but respect for the way she managed to verbalize her feelings through that veil of despair. What she said echoed what I kept in my heart for so many years.

I was glad my father died.

It sounds horrible, but looking at all the pain he was suffering, it was a blessing in the end. I never really said it before, but when it happened, there was a very strong and undeniable sense of relief under all that raw hurt.

Relief that my mom didn't have to fear for her soul mate's life any more, relief that I no longer had to stay up awake next to my parents' bed, listening intently to his breathing to make sure he didn't choke in his sleep, relief that he had finally found a better place and was free from all human suffering.

Somehow I know, that after the funeral tomorrow, I can finally release all the bad memories and bitterness and blame.

Maybe an incompetent MO was to blame for my father's death, maybe an irresponsible and selfish doctor was to blame for my uncle's death.

But I must accept that it is over. We all have to move on with a smile on our face and in our hearts, knowing that our loved ones would never want us to suffer for them.

I love you dad, and I love you too gee tiao.

May you both rest in peace and find each other in heaven.