Family relationships are not simple. They are interwoven by moment of joy, happiness, hardship and eventually shape us who we become. The relationship of me with my father had been both challenging and rewarding.
We were in catering business. You do two things in catering business. Either you attend other people parties or you have your own parties. Life is always a party. My dad used to sit in his office with head chef, waiters and cleaners and together they had drinks and play cards.
I don’t know what kind of impact the alcohol has over your teeth. Because, by age of 55, my dad lost all his teeth. He need to put denture or artificial teeth. He has a unique habit of twitching his mouth when eating. When he twist his mouth while eating, the whole teeth feel down in the plate. Sometime this would give guests shock.
Once we were going around the valley in evening. My father was sitting infront of taxi. When we reached Sahidgate, he screamed. “Stop the taxi”. I was sitting in back seat. “Go and get my teeth, it has been blown by air”. The taxi stopped. I get down and search for the denture. It took me half an hour to find the teeth.
Life is queer with twist and turn. He need to go through a prostrate operation. Then his diabetes hits his kidney. He need to go for the dialysis. It was once a month first then slowly it turned twice a week. His condition become fragile day by day. During one dialysis session, he got unconscious. When he came to conscious, he lost his memory. He couldn’t remember name and even recognize faces. But one thing, he didn’t forget even though. That was playing cards. Surprisingly, he remembered all the rules of call-break game. The hospital cabin turned into a mini-cassino. Whoever comes to visit him would then sit for an hour and play cards.
“Son, why don’t you take me around the valley like we do before?” I want to see the streets of Thahiti when I was born. I want to see the Bouddha shrine where I spent my youth days.” The most I could do was to take him in a wheelchair from hospital bed to corridor. We would sit together and see the red sun setting in a distant. He yield, “My days are longer but it seems years have shortened.”
I still remember the day he eventually passed. I had a dream that night. It was so vivid as if I couldn’t separate if I was awake or asleep. He bid his goodbye. The temple bells were shimmering. He then went far slowly at first and then at a speed.
Embracing life’s impaction is not just a way to cope – it’s a best way to live life fully, finding purpose in the messiness of it all.