It happened very fast. Today is already the 48th day without our Dad.

It felt like a revolution in my family somehow when my Dad died. My house feels very relax and quiet, no more fighting and yelling, no more unpleasant surprise, no more anger… even my dog, a happy go lucky Golden Retriever, lost her skin rash problem that means no more stress.

My Dad had been always tried very hard to be a Father ever since I’ve remembered. A Father in his thoughts, was someone who gives order and could be the most selfish one in the family…. so he would ordering people around but nobody really respect him. He can not even talk to the daughters besides ordering us to do stuff. Usually whenever I heard his cane sounds approaching, -this past 2-3 years he started using it because he had trouble walking from his diabetes- I tiptoed and locked myself in my room or escaped as fast as I could. I know that was not very nice but couldn’t help it. His failure of being a respectful Father figure depressed him a lot, he was diagnosed with bipolar disorder and eventually the situation was also depressing.

I still remember clearly how it happened that early morning around 6.30, he called on my cellphone, annoyingly I answered (usually I didn’t even bother to pick up his calls) and he ordered me to take pictures of him going to the hospital, saying this would be my very last chance. I thought that was a silly and narcissistic thought because he’s been in and out the hospital once every few months. I didn’t think it was unusual at that moment because of his insensible mind. But my sis sensed it as unusual that he must know about it and try to tell us something.

Well, I just went down to see if he was okay from a far. He was sitting in his favorite 1964 Brown Mercy Tiger, I could only saw his back as my driver was pulling the car out of the garage.Then I went back to sleep again.

Even when my mom was panicking after few days later when my dad got admitted in the ICU, I still didn’t realize that it was coming sooner than later. It was then when I jumped out from my boyfriend’s bed from my sister’s morning call saying that Dad was in a real critical condition. Mom told me to go home to prepare Dad’s best suit, shirts, tie, pants, sneakers… that was the bell that my mind went blank. I went to my office and just sat there for a few moment. My friends were asking and saying that I was crazy not to rush to the hospital as soon as possible. When I was finally manage to get myself to the hospital, went to the ICU room. My dad was laying on the bed with all the hose stuck on his mouth, nose and chest. He was breathing heavily and finally I know that this was serious. I couldn’t stand not to cry a few tears. I felt terrible.  Terrible for all the bad things I have done and the good things I have not done to him.

I wore a blank expression, whispered to his ears to let go if life was already too painful to bear. I promised him that me and my sister would take care of mom.

He died that night.

His soul should remained 49 days in our home then it will be on the way to his own world.

Tomorrow will be the 49th day.

Good bye Dad…