Two and a half hours ago, I stood outside the operation room, holding my tears back, as hard as I could. I smiled down at this frail man in front of me. Smiling ever so weakly, I held his hand tight, as he held mine; his other hand is attached to a drip.
My dad has always been the man of the house, tall and handsome. To me, he’s the perfect image of a father, strong and towering and could protect me under any circumstances, never a sign of fear. But there he was, lying on his surgery bed, for the first time I was tilting my head down, for the first time I saw signs of fear from his trembling heart. I could see his tears behind those droopy eyes due to old age as he could see mine. I know he’s controlling, not revealing how terrified he felt; looking at my weak and helpless father, it’s only minutes before I break down, but I have to hold back. I want him to know I’ll be there for him when he enters, and I want him to know I’ll be there when he exits the operation room.
I bent down, pressed my right cheek to his right, whispered to him not to worry and I will be there when he comes out. The surgeon couldn’t confirm how long the surgery will last, could be 3 hours, could be 10; no matter, I will wait. My brother’s rushing back from work, he took half day off. But there I was, alone with my father at the entrance of the surgery room, my brother couldn’t make it in time to see him in.
The nurses pushed the bed further and the steel doors opened, I hold on to the bed indicating the nurses to wait, I made a call to mom, she’s handling dad’s business alone now, I informed her it’s time, they talked for a minute before hanging up. The bed moved forward and my dad’s surgeon assistant showed up, together with the analgesist; that was as far as I could proceed, I thought I saw a tear appearing at the side of his eye, I shouted: “don’t worry, just take a nap and everything will be alright once you wake up”. He nodded. And the doors closed.
Two hours and fifteen minutes ago, I stood in front of the operation room, holding my backpack, crying my heart out.