Three hours had passed when Mama opened her eyes. Roger and I, who had been accompanying Mama, rushed to hug her tightly. Mama smiled happily at us. He was even able to stroke my hair and the hair of Roger's brother who was sitting on the edge of his bed. I am thankful. Very very grateful.
A few hours later even Mama was able to communicate with us. It's not smooth. But at least some words can be caught from his pale lips. My brother Roger and I took turns taking care of him. Feed him, clean his body with a wet towel, play his favorite song. As currently Roger's older brother is doing.
Mama asked him to play Sinead O'Connor's old song Nothing Compares To You. He said this song reminds him of Papa. They used to listen to the song together on Papa's music player, which is still tucked away neatly in Mama's room.
daddy..
I hate it.
He didn't even come to us once. Look at the state of his wife.
