My heart ached to see him suffering on the hospital bed. He was gasping for air. Doctors had not been too encouraging. Our two little darlings were missing him so much as he wasted away. In spite of his terrible state of health, he offered his help to neighbouring Ah Pek's son. He pointed with much difficulty to a plastic bag filled with the old man's belongings, lying on the floor. He meant well, wanting to the son to store the bag safely in a cabinet. It was a known thing that belongings or even food could easily gone missing in the ward. That was my dear Abang. He was always so caring and loving. He would take our little darlings around on his motorbike. He would laugh and make us laugh. Things had changed. Even with the oxygen mask, he seemed deprived of air. Sometimes he would open his eyes and try to tell me so many things. He should not have gone on his own motorbike to massage his leg. I was happy to see him recovering from an accident some four months back. Who would have thought that life could be so cruel to us? He had been a careful man. How could another accident happened to him on the way for the massage? Had we done anything wrong? Abang's breath became more frantic and short. Then he stopped breathing. I called for the nurses. They arrived promptly but there was nothing much they could do. He was no more.
(*** Note from the blogger: This was a recent experience that I encountered while looking after my father in the Soga Government Hospital. The loving pair was only in their early twenties. Accident happened when the husband was riding out from his kampung. ***)
