My ex husband had a heart attack at about 2.30am last Thursday morning and is now being stabilised in ICU and waiting for a proper date for angio. Not a fantastic sign considering that he just celebrated his 44th birthday early April 2008. Lyn promptly flew in the next day together with his side of the family to be with him.
On that early morning, he called his friend to pick him up for hospital. Then, the next phone call went to his daughter. I remember being awaken from my sleep by my crying teenager, ears still glued to her mobile with her daddy. Her tears were rolling down and with desperate voice begging him not to leave her.
Funny when you feel death is so close but a heartbeat, knowing that you can just die in a matter of moment, you tend to do reflect – a lot.
My dad passed away about 6 years ago, also in April. He died in his car while being driven to the hospital. I remember the late night phone call from a cousin who told me to go back to the kampung and visit my dad. I was a bit upset when he began to sound persistant and he finally told me that he was in the car to hospital with another cousin who was driving.
All of a sudden, the mobile phone went dead as it passed through a no-coverage area. I frantically called him back. Three minutes passed. Eventually, it could have been my umpteenth call during the 5 minutes and I managed to get through.
I heard him crying. My dad breathed his last breath in between the line drop and the next phone call.
I collapsed by the phone, oblivious to my surroundings. My ears registered nothing but some loud thumping of my heart.
At the Muslim grave compound – I walked behind my daughter so slowly, and stood at the edge of the burial plot. I saw his body being lowered down to meet his Maker, and with a deep sense knowing that I would never see my dad again.
I dont have so much of emotional issues anymore with my ex and I sincerely hope that he will recover, for the sake of my daughter, and not for anything else. He had, in a way, left her to face her challenging teenage years with me, and has not been there for her when she needed a hug or words of encouragement or even skin contact with her daddy.
As for me, all the 24 years of memories with him seemed to dissipate away and all what was left a sense of empathy and a wishful prayer for him to get well. A sense of nostalgic love from someone who had loved him with her life.
Life Is One Big Stage 