Goodbye
GOODBYE Ten years ago was the last day I saw her eyes open. My mother passed away on 20th July 2007. She breathed her last, or more like gasped for air, sometime in the morning around 07:30 am. I was awakened by the sounds of my aunt and my dad crying out in panic. I was 15 years old at that time and to this day, I still remember each and every moment of it. It has been branded in my mind forever and no passage of time can erase them off – it is a futile exercise in itself; the idea of forgetting a day or a memory and yet, despite your best efforts, nothing changes. It stays fresh as a wound and every year, on this day, I relive those agonizing moments. I got up and went to the bed, where she laid. The disease had finally laid waste of a once strong woman. Her bones were clearly visible, the skin down to the minimum. She was making a retching-type sound from her mouth, trying to breathe or perhaps, push air in her lungs. Her eyelids were partially closed and from ...