One last conversation

[Sneh]

My dad and I had a complicated relationship. He wouldn't listen to me and I was equally rebellious. I knew that he was experiencing mild chest pain. But he'd always brush it off and I had given up on pushing him to go to a doctor.  Considering what a rash driver he was, he has minor accidents and we (family) were used to it. 

One morning I got a call from a stranger's number that he had met an accident and I again wasn't too concerned. Yet me and my mom rushed to the hospital. Turns out his whole staff was present in that hospital and no one was telling us anything. We were asked to wait for the doctor. 

Doctor came. Asked us to sit. Told us that due to cardiac arrest he collapsed and now he's no more. That's it. Just those few words and we were stuck by a great wave of shock. Since it almost seem impossible considering how stubborn he was about his dreams and plans, I asked the doctor if I can see the body. He allowed me. But I couldn't even properly see his face. My eyes, my brain wasn't able to take it. So as soon as I saw him lifeless, I said no and rant to my mother in other room. I thought I was strong enough but I wasn't at all. 

It's like my insides are being torn apart and I can't even scream because if I do, what will happen to my mom and sister? The fact that he was all alone in his final moment breaks my heart. I never told him how much I love him or how much he matters. I never bought him the pen that I promised to buy after losing one of his. 

I have all this frustration and anger and the immense urge to fight whatever power is holding him away from us. I'm dying for that one last conversation which I'll never have. 

[reader]

Dear Sneh:

I am so sorry for your loss. Please know you’re not alone and many of us feel the same way. We all long to go back in time.

My grief counsellor has suggested to me that I could write a letter to my father, or pretend to sit across from him and tell him everything that I wish I had said.  I know others have written letters and attach them to balloons to be sent into the sky. 

Sometimes I feel like nothing will heal me from this loss. But I try to go on each day the best I can knowing this is what my father would’ve wanted.

We are here with you.