GOODBYES

I arrived at the hospital in uniform, my face pale and my heart pounding. A nurse showed me the room where my father had been allocated. When I entered the white room, my mother and my sisters were sitting at my father's bedside. I walked in silently.

My mother stood up, saying to Iwona and Ania: "Let's leave them alone together."

As she passed by me, she put a light hand on my stomach and kissed my cheek. Then, she left the room. Iwona and Ania hugged me on their way to the door as they both followed my mother in tears. I pursed my dried lips. I continued to walk slowly towards my father who was lying motionless on the bed. One of his hands was tensely closed and raised in the air. The left part of his face seemed paralysed, his left eye remained half-closed, his lips hanging to one side.

I kept walking slowly when he tilted his head in my direction. I froze, watching him.

"Borys?" He sighed in a weak voice.

"I'm here," I replied, holding my breath as I was walking.

"You're going to survive, aren't you?" He said in a worried voice.

I frowned wondering what experience of my life he was referring to.

"You have to survive. I want you to survive," he kept saying, fidgeting. I then leaned towards him to take his hand as I replied:

"Yes dad, I'll survive and I'll save many too."

"I never meant to hurt you," he added more calmly, his hand soft in mine. "I just wanted you to survive. The world's cruel, Borys."

Hearing my father's words, hot tears came to my eyes clouding my vision of his face. Men may be cruel, but old age and illness will always pay them back. I lay down next to my father who remained silent and still, soothed by my presence. He had said and done everything he was to born to accomplish in this world, so then death could come and take him away at barely seventy. I was 39.

What about me?

His motionless, weak body sank into the white sheets while his gaze stayed suspended on the ceiling. I had probably never been so close to him as I was then. I scrutinised every curve of his face, every wrinkle, his hair, every strand of skin, every hair on his skin. I had to remember this face well because I would soon never be able to see it again.

I hugged my father's motionless and weak body close to me and I sighed, closing my eyes.

***

The next day after work, I went back to the hospital to visit my father. A nurse stopped me in my tracks as she ran after me down the corridor.

"Mr. Leszczyński," she said, gently grabbing my arm.

I turned around surprised, but already guessing the terrible news she was about to announce:

"I'm sorry," she said simply, her eyes filled with compassion.

I shivered as my gaze clouded for a moment. I solemnly took off my hat to bring it halfway up my belly before asking the nurse in a serene voice:

"Do I need to sign anything?"