After I've submitted my essay, I realize I can now no longer hear my father speak like how he used to when I was young. It's been so long, I can only vaguely remember the voice...
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I saw my mum holding Bryan's hand with the pencil in it, tracing the alphabets on his workbook. I think she used to do the same thing with me when I was his age too...
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The hospital scene. I was stunned. As I were just now, again. My dad came back with tubes on his face because he couldn't swallow his food and had to feed on milk.
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Who can actually understand the kind of pain your heart feels when you are helpless to the sufferings of your loved ones. I feel weak.
I want to eat out with you like what we always do in the past... Just me and you, Papa.
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I've recently heard of a friend's father's decease.
And I don't want to feel what he feels.
I don't want my blog to be more emotional than it is right now.
I don't want my Facebook to be filled with condolences.
I don't want myself to fall into the abyss of sorrows, as I know I will...
--
One day.
Someday, some day this will come.
You cannot never be prepared enough for it.
