I’ve Loved Him When He Was Alive
It’s only a man (meaning male or female) lying on the
street. Were it a dog I would rescue and take it home or to a doctor. I saw a
lady walking with her dog, imagine a bulldog, that was more likable, than she
was. Ha. Ha.
That was what she, a doctor, confided to her mother, that
she more loves dogs than people.
Yet,
There was a senior doctor, who prepared her for her thesis.
He was her guardian angel, encouraging, aiding her, defending, protecting her
from envious seniors, professor who didn’t like her to succeed, by just to be
present, silently waiting as a watch dog in the room for others to not disturb,
obstruct, bullying her while she worked out her studies. That was despite his
suffering a deadly liver desease.
When he was so sick, in the hospital, she every day visited
him just to see him for a few minutes and say hello. That was like heaven, though
the society might think she’s an unashamed woman to so often visit a married
man. Almost no one visited him.
She succeeded, managed to serve him his favorite dish, a
special squid dish. Where to find the squids, while she never went to the fish
market or knew how to cook it. That was because he almost doesn’t want to eat
anymore. And she brought him cool, very soft coconut sweetened drink. When he could
hardly move or talk, she wetted his dry lips, covered him with a blanket and
told the nurse to do the same.
She went out of the room when he died, while his wife,
sons, relatives came in and surrounded him. She didn’t care about the fuss, or
to attend the funeral ceremonies and his burial.
“I’m grateful, happy. I’ve loved him when he was alive.
They loved, cared for him when he’s already dead.” So she mused.
And I imagined them loving each other, a wonderful, silent,
unpermitted love.
April 2013
This is my book. You can read it.
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