This is something I have written 5 years ago. Some of you might
have read it.
Saying Goodbye
It was not easy saying
goodbye to Keith, when I don’t even want to be away from
him.
England
the same year. I never forget him and
visited his tomb every time I could. I’ve also kept in contact with
his family and knew they were doing fine. “Kor kor is looking after
us in heaven. He still shows his love.” Keith’s sister said, and
that’s all I need to hear.
Lying on the hospital bed, Keith had numerous tubes attached
to various parts of his body and a machine that beeped. His eyes
were closed. Painful for the both of us, I can’t help but tear
every time I visit him. In the ward, flowers could be seen
everywhere, sent by friends, colleagues and family members. I
brought his favorite car models and placed it on the bedside table,
hoping that he can see it when he recovers.
He had lapsed into coma early this month. The tumor in his
head is still spreading after numerous surgeries. Young at only 28,
he first experienced the pain 2 years ago, but shook it off as a
normal headache. He was a promising young man with a career that
just took off.
I first got to know him at a beachside coffee club. I was
enjoying the sun and reading a novel at the same time. He was a
beach volleyball player and was enjoying a good game with his
friends. We actually got acquainted after he accidentally splashed
coke all over me. Apologizing for his clumsiness, he offered me
napkins to clean up. Shaken, I told him to forget about it and made
my way to the bathroom where I could change into my dry clothes.
When I got out of the bathroom, he was waiting. “Hey I’m really
sorry about ruining your day and your clothes. I apologize for my
clumsiness.” He sincerely said. I nodded and walked away.
Maybe fate really brought us together; he was my new boss
several weeks later. Love blossomed shortly after.
The headaches got worse and one day he just collapsed at
home. He was admitted to the hospital and was told about the tumor.
The doctors said that tumor is at the final stages and there was no
way to get rid of it. I was taken back and found my world spinning
into darkness. When I regained consciousness, I couldn’t accept the
fact, yet I have to brave up a front to face Keith.
“Hey, how are you feeling?” I asked as I sat on the bed,
holding his hand. “Terrible,” he sobbed, “I’m sorry, Kate, I’m not
able to take care of you anymore.” I shook my head and told him
that everything will turn out fine. Amazed by his calmness, Keith
said, “You knew that everything will not be alright. I’ll be gone
in another 3 months at most, what will happen to you?” I chose not
to accept the fact and said, “No, I’ll create a miracle, we’ll send
you overseas for treatment.” I was very stubborn. Keith grabbed my
shoulders and looked at me in the eyes. “Don’t. Face it.” I broke
down.
Keith’s condition deteriorated day by day. On the day he
lapsed into coma, he slipped a ring into my finger. “I love you.”
He said weakly, and then closed his eyes. It was the ring that I
had been eyeing on for weeks and I’ve only told him on one of the
visits, showing him the picture in the magazine. Up till now, I
don’t know how he managed to get the ring while he’s still in
hospital, and I chose not to know.
Just a week ago, the doctor was making his rounds and found
that Keith’s situation had turned worse. He could either make it
through this weekend or leave all of his loved ones behind. I
prayed hard for him. “He’s suffering from all the pain that he
couldn’t voice out, he couldn’t express. He needs to escape.”
Keith’s sister said, as she cried in my arms.
“His system is failing,” Dr. Fender said, “his willpower is
slowly fading. I’m expecting the worst. I’m sorry.” We cried like
never before that night. “Uncle Keith is not leaving us, is he?”
Keith’s favorite nephew asked. I carried him in my arms and sobbed.
“Auntie, don’t cry. Uncle won’t be happy seeing us cry.” He said.
At the tender age of 4, his words struck me hard.
We spent most of the days left at the hospital. We ate at
the cafeteria and slept in the visitor’s lounge. All of us wanted
to be there, when Keith is spared from all the pain. Most of the
time I didn’t sleep; thinking of the times we had together and how
much happiness he had given to those around him.
Then the day came. His parents and I were in the lounge
resting when the nurse came. “I think you all should see Keith
now.” Her voice sounded like a warning. We rushed to his ward and
the doctor was checking on him. “I’m sorry. You may want to spend
the time left with him now. At most, a few hours.”
His mother collapsed on hearing the news and had to be
helped to the couch. I left the ward, allowing the couple some
private time with their beloved son. I cried hard when I got out of
the ward. His sister then came running to me, hugging me and crying
out together. It was difficult for us. The man we both love and
look up to is soon leaving us. “Kor kor is leaving, right?” she
asked, mumbling in the midst of crying. I hugged her tighter as if
replying to her.
“Kate, maybe you should go in now,” Keith’s dad said,
holding on to his crying wife and patted my shoulder. I looked at
them and nodded, slowly walking into the ward.
He seems to be sleeping peacefully now. All the tubes and
the machine are gone. I took his hand in mine and whispered into
his ear, “I love you, Keith.” I told him about how much I loved the
ring and talked about our happy times. “Don’t worry about your
family ok? I’ll be there for them. I know how much it hurts and it
hurts me too. Goodbye.” I cried and try to force a smile for him.
He loved my smile. With a gentle peck on his lips, I left the
ward.
My good bye to him was short but not my love for him. The
pain that I felt was tremendous. Losing him, I felt handicapped,
yet I’ve got to be strong. He wouldn’t want me to be sad. It will
be a relief and escape for him, I thought to myself.
Within the same hour, he left us. He became my guardian
angel and his family migrated to
