4. Closings
12:13 am, Saturday, 13 April
I open my Bible randomly.
"Listen to my words, Lord, consider my lament.
Hear my cry for help, my King and my God,
for to you I pray." (Psalm 5:1-2)
"Listen to my words, Lord, consider my lament.
Hear my cry for help, my King and my God,
for to you I pray." (Psalm 5:1-2)
6:03 am, Saturday, 13 April
I have no words.
I have no life.
I have no life.
8:32 am, Saturday, 13 April
I opened that Bible verse randomly. I thought it would be a comfort. But now I see that God mocks me too. For now as I continue reading I see...
"In the morning, Lord, you hear my voice; in the morning I lay my requests before you
and wait expectantly. For you are not a God who is pleased with wickedness;
with you, evil people are not welcome. The arrogant cannot stand in your presence.
You hate all who do wrong; you destroy those who tell lies. The bloodthirsty and deceitful
you, Lord, detest." (Psalms 5:3-6)
I have forgotten You! And now you are destroying me. It's not like I lost my faith. I've just been busy. Busy trying to do the best for Dana and I. Surely you can see that. Why? Why punish me for just being a good husband? Why?
"In the morning, Lord, you hear my voice; in the morning I lay my requests before you
and wait expectantly. For you are not a God who is pleased with wickedness;
with you, evil people are not welcome. The arrogant cannot stand in your presence.
You hate all who do wrong; you destroy those who tell lies. The bloodthirsty and deceitful
you, Lord, detest." (Psalms 5:3-6)
I have forgotten You! And now you are destroying me. It's not like I lost my faith. I've just been busy. Busy trying to do the best for Dana and I. Surely you can see that. Why? Why punish me for just being a good husband? Why?
1:22 pm, Saturday, 13 April
Beep...beep...beep
The cadence of the complex web of breathing apparatus is punctuated by the beeping heart monitor. The sterile walls and antiseptic smell mix with the sounds to suck any last vestiges of hope from those confined within this mausoleum of medicine.
"Mom, I'm sorry. I meant to call you. I really did. I've just been so..."
...so what?
So consumed by my life, my plans.
"I'm sorry!"
Beep...beep...beep
The cadence of the complex web of breathing apparatus is punctuated by the beeping heart monitor. The sterile walls and antiseptic smell mix with the sounds to suck any last vestiges of hope from those confined within this mausoleum of medicine.
"Mom, I'm sorry. I meant to call you. I really did. I've just been so..."
...so what?
So consumed by my life, my plans.
"I'm sorry!"
Beep...beep...beep
3:12 pm, Saturday, 13 April
The doctors don't hold out much hope. Mom is still in a coma and I can see her usually pink-tinged cheeks now have the grey hue of death's touch on them.
A cold chill runs down my spine.
A cold chill runs down my spine.
10:40 pm, Saturday, 13 April
"Malo. Malo. Wake up."
I start awake to dad's voice. I've fallen asleep in the hard hospital chair next to mom's bed.
"What?" I cry out in alarm, as I glance at mom's bed. She's not there!
"She's gone..." Dad begins.
What do you mean 'she's gone'? Why didn't you wake me?"
I feel the hot tears, tears I have held back for so long, beginning to gush down my face. "Malo," dad shouts again, "she's gone back to theatre. They are going to try and operate to release some of the pressure on her brain."
I stare blankly at dad.
Once more everything seems to fade away. The room seems to vanish. It's quiet. So quiet.
I start awake to dad's voice. I've fallen asleep in the hard hospital chair next to mom's bed.
"What?" I cry out in alarm, as I glance at mom's bed. She's not there!
"She's gone..." Dad begins.
What do you mean 'she's gone'? Why didn't you wake me?"
I feel the hot tears, tears I have held back for so long, beginning to gush down my face. "Malo," dad shouts again, "she's gone back to theatre. They are going to try and operate to release some of the pressure on her brain."
I stare blankly at dad.
Once more everything seems to fade away. The room seems to vanish. It's quiet. So quiet.
11:28 pm, Saturday, 13 April
I have finally been convinced to go home. Dana is asleep. She looks exhausted. I've failed her.
11:44 pm, Saturday, 13 April
My phone buzzes.
I look at it.
1 Message Received - READ CANCEL
I am about to press "CANCEL"
I hesitate.
For some reason I press "READ"
The message, from an unrecognized number shouts at me. Probably some friend who is trying to make me feel better.
"Be still, and know that I am God." (Ps 46:10)
“Huh! So where are you God? I'm listening. I'm still! It's so still it's like a grave,” I laugh sardonically to myself. “Where are you? How is this knowing you?”
Silence...Nothing!
Aah...forget this. Forget my dreams. Forget my life. Forget this stupid blog...I’m not writing this any more! Forget everything. It seems you have forgotten me. Haven't you?
Silence...Nothing!