September

It was about 1,5 years ago and I still remember that day when I ended up in a hospital, 3 am in the morning, alone. I could still easily gaze the parking lot, reception area, the emergency room... all were quiet. The ER doctor, still recognize how he looked but barely remember his name.. something with a B and an R, almost sounds like "Barry". A tall, (not handsome but) charming  guy, dark skin.. quite a good looking face. Could still be easily remembered how he came out of the emergency room, asking my father's relatives to come and see his condition. It was only me in the waiting room. I came across toward the door, following his steps, rushed facing a bed.

There, lay my father, surrounded by a female doctor who kept on pumping his chest and 3 other nurses strolling down between the beeping instruments. That "Barry" doctor dashed and taking over the CPR when saying something like "please take a look on how we've tried to save him". Several minutes later, he called his senior asking for an advice and then ordered a nurse to inject my father with more medicine. He jumped to the bed and took another CPR. At that very moment, I said silently, "dear God, I would trade anything, anything to bring him back". For a second, my dad's hand arose as if he was calling me. I came rushed toward him, his eyes were closed, but I said next to his ear "I love you Dad.." Still no sign of consciousness, they took another CPR for the next 20 minutes. I still stood there, facing the bed while in the end Barry said to me, "we've done the best that we could", exactly just like a line on a movie. I couldn't believe that he's already gone, I thrust Barry to say exactly what he meant. And just now, I hope I could say "Happy birthday Dad...".