top of page
  • Writer's pictureAli Assareh

This was my dad's moment.

The day before my dad passed, he was unusually calm in the morning.

We convinced my mom that, after a few exhausting days in the hospital, this was the time to go home and refresh, take a shower.

"Ok, but just make sure he's still with us until I come back," she demanded in my ear before she left.

Like clockwork, as soon as my mom left, my dad woke up, struggling so hard to breathe.

I was sure these were his last breaths.

I held his hand and kept pleading, looking into his murky eyes: "Stay with me Baba!"

As I was saying those words, it suddenly dawned on me: This was NOT my mom's moment; or my moment.

This was my dad's moment.

"It's OK Baba," I switched into saying. "It's OK Baba," I kept repeating.

Those 40 minutes were the heaviest moments of my life.

But I'm glad I was present with my dad, in his moment.

5 views0 comments


Post: Blog2_Post
bottom of page