THE GOODBYE
314 Words
lost in the beauty of nature.
“What’s the first thing you want to do when you get better?”
He had contemplated this for a short while. Then he answered, “Go to Alaska. I’ve always wanted to go there.”
As she sat, frozen, beside the swollen, motionless body that once housed her father, she couldn’t help but think of all the things he’d never get the chance to do. He would never celebrate his 51st birthday which was just three weeks away. He wouldn’t go to Alaska. When she finally had kids, he would never know what being a grandfather was like. Who would teach them how to pitch a tent, sail a boat, or tie a bowline knot, his favourite? He wouldn’t ever do any of the things he loved ever again. It was unfair, cruel.
Tears slid freely down her cheeks without pause.
They don’t tell you about this when someone dies—how they change. As the hours passed, his complexion took on a splotchy, bruise-like colouring. His mouth hung slightly agape and his eyes were thankfully closed, as if in a deep slumber. When her lips touched his forehead for the last time, his skin was ice-cold. It sent chills rippling through her. None of them wanted to leave him, but they couldn’t stay forever.
“Goodbye dad,” she softly wept. “I love you.”
She took one last lingering glance at the corpse that, although resembled her father in some ways, looked entirely different. It wasn’t him anymore. It would never be him again. All she had now were the memories that she was afraid to forget but at the same time terrified to remember.
One day she would no longer fear the past or the events of tonight. But for now she would let herself grieve—for as long as it took.
- Writer
