May 13, 2006. It was a bright Saturday morning but for the whole family, the past few days have been gloomy. My father was confined due to a stroke attack and was already in comatose state for the last four days. The Friday evening was like a lull before the storm. Viewing the face of my father while he is deeply asleep the before brings back good memories we had.
Around 6AM, the nurse in duty just updated the vital signs form and told us that there is no significant changes. My mother just woke up by then and asked me to go home and have me replaced by my other sibling. As I leave the hospital premises at 8AM, I am optimistic despite the non-improving condition that all will be fine through a miracle. While in Munoz, my mother called up and told me to immediately return to the Quezon City General Hospital because something bad is happening.
As I arrived in the room, a team of doctor and nurses are already surrounding my fathers bed together with their ECG and electric cardio pump. I felt that this is already the time. 10 minutes of attempting to revive the pulse and heart beat wasn't successful. At exactly 9AM, the attending physician declared my father dead due to multiple organ failure and sepsis.
My mother started to get hysterical while I am trying to hold back my tears. As soon as the medical team left, we went near to his lifeless body and bid goodbye. Quietly, i whispered a "thank you" for raising up and being a father to us. Personally, the impact is hard felt that by just remembering the events bring tears to my eyes.
Four years have past and lots things have already happened. Yet, four years ago, an important lesson was taught and instilled: value the people who matters while they are still alive.