My father

August 18, 2017
2 min read

Reading a book called The Last Lecture I’m taken down the memory lane 30 years back when my father was dying from tumour. I never knew that he must have suffered in the process of knowing he was going to die until i read this book. So i revisited those old memories. I was 11 to 12. For the first time i ask myself how much pain he must have gone through knowing he won’t see us grow.

In many ways he must have felt lucky in that he was able to enjoy life to its fullest and had enough money stream for us not to have problems.

He was the old generation type meaning he didn’t express any emotions even at the time of dying. Always calm and smiling expect in his fit from the brain tumour.

He was around my age today when he died.

Seeing death up so close and personal has always helped me make the right decision.

The amazing thing today is that after 30 years i realised i had missed a major portion of my memories. I never looked from his side. Like every child i looked from my side as to what i lost.

By this age i too feel of death came I’m prepared to die. I’m not afraid of losing my identity as I’ve trained so much already in the art of mastering time after death. Yet i know next year is my rebirth within this body. My plans are ready. I’m all set to go.