Forever by Louise Parker (novels to improve english .txt) 📕

It happened ten years ago. It was in that year that my beloved father passed away.
My father was seriously ill. I was still young, innocent of what was happening
around me. Now, I really hated myself for being like that. I had failed to
detect the problems of my family. I just thought that my father was down with
fever, cold… or other common illnesses. I believed that he would soon be
alright. It did not occur to me that he would develop the killer cancer and die,
leaving me behind. I had always held on to the hope that he would not leave me
but stay with me forever. It was far too late for me to express my love for
him, when he was still alive. I had wasted my chances to tell him how much he
meant to me.


He just left me like that. It was raining heavily that night. I was in bed when
a phone call woke me up. I got up and picked up the receiver. It was my mother,

calling from the Hospital. It was that fateful call: my father had died.
I cried myself to sleep. My pillow was soaked with my tears. My throat felt
parched and I was nauseous. I wanted to cry out loud but I did not. I had to
control my feelings.


The funeral was grim and gloomy. I looked at father’s photo, his altar and
coffin. I wailed and grieved over the loss of a loved one. Why didn’t I relate
my feelings for him during the years he was with me? All the times we spent
together came back to me. My tears flowed out uncontrollably and I couldn’t
accept the fact that I have missed the chances which I should have shown my love
and appreciation for my father. I even quarrelled with my brothers, although
they were just as sad as me, in a conflict over the removal of the coffin. It
was to be sent for incineration at the crematorium. I held onto the cold,
clammy wooden box and tried to prevent the undertakers from sending it away.
I yelled and flung my arms wildly but I failed to stop them. I had lost the
battle. Now whenever I think of my father, I will cry. I am nearly on the verge
of tears now as I am writing this, but I am forcing myself not to cry. He has
died and I blame myself for having not grasped the opportunities tightly in my
hands. I felt as if that a strong wind had blown me off my feet and I had the
fortune of catching hold of a wind-breaking pole. Unfortunately, in doing so
with both my hands, I let go of my precious father as he was sucked away by
the malicious wind, disappearing slowly…


Even though I have picked myself up from the sorrowful event, I cannot help but
think of the hundreds of chances I was unable to treasure. I had not spent my
childhood years wisely with him. No matter what, I know now that I have to make
good use of future opportunities in doing anything. I should not wasted waste
them again, like I did in my past.


The dead cannot be revived so there is nothing I can do now to correct my
faults. All things in the world have to end. The flowers outside father’s flat
bloom and wither when the seasons change. I still have a long way to go.

Publication Date: 02-19-2010

All Rights Reserved