Even in the hospital Dad couldn’t help himself. He was still the same old man, who hated the societies preferential treatment to the have’s and the have not’s. As he had “Dr” in front of his name all the attendants and nurses treated him well. Unfortunately, his neighbour was not privy to the same, sometimes even the basic requests were ignored. The guy next to him related to us that couple of nights ago, he had no water and the nurses had just ignored his several requests, Dad almost had a tumble trying to give him water from his jug. Dad had even shared some of the food that mum had taken him. That guy was so grateful. But dad was annoyed and a tad bit ashamed that he was treated well and the other not so. If Dad was alive and living in Australia now, he would have been so happy. So, happy to note that there was a society where you are an equal in a Public Hospital. In fact you are an equal in most places.
I wrote letters to my uncles who were living far away, telling them that Dad has pulled through, that Dad was coming home tomorrow. What a whirlwind of events. But, we knew, it was a long way from us returning back to TRI (Tea Research Institute) or to a normal life. There was suggestion that he could do light duties in Colombo with the Tea Board. We knew he was still fragile, but he has pulled through the biggest hurdle. We will make sure that he doesn’t set back in his old workaholic habits. We will take care of him. Dad’s 53rd birthday was coming up at the end of the month. We will celebrate it, as we never have. I saw a funny birthday card in the shops, something about old age, so I bought it then and there. Life was good again.
I was thinking this was going to be our last evening visit to the hospital. Dad was coming home tomorrow evening. How sweet does that sound. Dad had worked out what needs to be done. He wanted mum and Cuz Sulo to come in the morning with several cakes from “Green Cabin” a popular cake shop and some good tea(leaves)from Tea Research Institute. He had a list of doctors, nurses and attendants to whom he wanted to give gifts.
He asked Velu (a man assistant given to us by TRI), Thangamma (our long time maid) and myself to stay back and clean the house, as he expected many visitors. He told us the number of people he had invited to our house in TRI. Not just for a meal, these invitations were for them to come and stay with us and have a holiday. He was in an elated mood. So were we. Much better than him confused and disoriented. I shake that memory off, just celebrate girl, that was just a bad dream, I said to myself.
*Note: for the benefit of those who have not read the first 6 parts of this story, at present we were living in Colombo in one of my cousin’s house, our usual place of residence is Talwakelle (upcountry 4.5 hr drive) where TRI is situated).
The driver was a touch late to pick mum and cuz Sulo. My cuz wanted to be in the Hospital before the surgeons finished their rounds, so she could speak to them. So she asked to be first dropped off in the hospital, before the cake purchases. Mum, decided to follow my cousin to the wards, so she could pack dad’s clothes, toiletries etc and take it with her before going for the cakes. Her thinking was so when taking dad, their hands would be free to concentrate on taking dad to the car safely.
The clock had turned back again. The blaring horns of the traffic outside my window sounded the same that night. It was humid, hot and uncomfortable as always. There was no signs to say that the clock had wound back sixteen days. There were no signs at all to say that the roller coaster was now on free fall.
Cont…
Uma's life and thoughts 
You have a gift to end a post making me want to beg for more-i have NEVER seen anyone as good at this as you are! You must write a book!
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Thank you my friend from the other side of the world.
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waiting for the next one!!!
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Oh,my! I am so hooked the I have to go back and read parts 1-6. 😉
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That’s an amazing compliment. Thank you
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Now I am confused. h0w and why did I get this pingback?
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Rasan Mama was only 52 when he fell sick. I can’t believe such a brilliant, kind hearted man short lived; may be as you wrote God doesn’t let the good people to live in this miserable world for too long.
Now only I realised I have been referring your father as Rasan mama not as your father or Uma’s father in all the comments I wrote to your article or even in messenger.
May be, because I didn’t know him as your father, frankly speaking I was bit possessive over him. I am still possessive I think. Good that you and me didn’t live in the same street or town. We both would have had a constant fight over, whom your father loved the most.
It wouldn’t have happened because you wrote that you are the same age as cousin Pamini. My youngest sister Gowry also was born on the same year as Pamini. That means you are almost 9 years than me. I would have given in, like the way I have done to my youngest sister. My youngest sister still enjoys that privilege. I will try to refer Rasan mama as your father but it may be bit hard on me.
I wish you could finish your article with this chapter saying Dad was OK and he came home and we happily lived there after. I knew it never happened anyway.
While enjoying you writing, I can still feel heart-wrenching moments of you and your mother.
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I wish my story has ended with this chapter too. But as they it was not meant to be I guess. Why? I don’t know. There was no rhyme or reason for his early departure. It just was his time apparently . It warms me each time I hear from someone who had deep love and respect for my dad. Thank you for sharing that with me. It really makes humble and makes me grateful that I had the great fortune to have been his daughter. In this world only for 19 short years. But I get this feeling he has been watching over me and pulling me through each hurdle I face. Once again thank you for reading. Thank you for having the courage to keep reading. Really appreciate your in depth comments.
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