It was a cold night during one of those chilly days of the month. I remember the rain pouring down like it would never stop. It was pitch-dark too, as if some thick blanket had been pulled over the moon. I tossed and turned in bed as the mosquitoes made eery noises in the darkness that engulfed the room. As I rolled over one last time, I touched my mother's bare arm. I thought I heard her sob. Once. Twice. Life had never been easy for her. My father had taken ill weeks ago and all our finances were used to pay his hospital bills. he had been discharged recently but he had not fully recovered. I understood it all. I used to cry too. I did not want her to know I was awake so I closed my eyes and settled down to sleep.
Just minutes after I had resolved to sleep, I heard some noise coming from the other side of the room. It was more like a groan, a painful one. Before I knew it, my mother had already sprung from the bed and switched on the lights. She swiftly moved to my father's bed and felt his forehead. I had already sat up on the bed taking in all that was happening. She had a worried look on her face. The past few weeks had taken a toll on her. The wrinkles told it all.
I moved to the bed that supported my ailing father. His eyes were closed, a painful wrinkle on his face. He did not move an inch and his hands were icily cold. My head reeled. My mother grabbed me and sat with me on the floor. That was it- he had left us, forever.
That image of my father's lifeless body and my mother's shaking frame has never left my mind. Fifteen years down the line, I still get nightmares of that scenario. There were times when I would stay up all night and cry. I was so angry with everyone and life lost its meaning. However, I figured out that life had to move on and that things happen for a reason. So many times we dwell in the past and forget to live our lives. Death is painful but it is part and parcel of life. I have learned over time that there are other happy moments that make up for the disappointments we face.