Yamaku. Last time I was here, it was graduation. I wish happier terms lead me here today. The campus is still familiar. Those large intimidating iron gates, the school building just passed it. What I am not familiar with is the medical facilities. I never had been there before, even when I attended classes. I had no problems or disabilities so I almost had no need to. My father, on the other hand, was a frequent visitor I hear. And he checked in again a week ago.
Only so much can one can say through a phone. I am no stranger to my father's condition; his last "flutter" was three years ago when we fought over something petty. I was never particularly too close to him but boy, I never spoke up against my father since then. But a while ago, when I heard my father collapsed while teaching, I had to book the next free flight to Japan even if I was all the way in England. Ever since that stupid fight, I had a burning resolve to be a doctor, hopefully to help my father. But that was a mere hope.
Yamaku Hospital. Never has my own alma mater been so unfamiliar. I can only fathom what lies beyond these double doors. I could turn back; I could just evade my eyes and pray. But I refuse to. My father needs me now more than ever. I'm not a doctor but I have to been here for him.
My initial step parts the doors. A few more leads me to a familiar sight.
"Benjamin?" Her voice is almost a whisper but I knew it is her. Her recognizable hair flows down her back. She's forty-five, just like my mother, but she looks not a day passed thirty.
"Hanako. Where's my father?"
"Third floor, I'm heading back up now. Shizune, Misha, and your mother are up there too."
I could only nod. Hanako leads me to the main desk to give me a visitor tag. Her leading pulls tell me that she has done this before. From what I heard from my dad, Hanako is also no stranger to hospitals. Though one could assume that just by looking at her... scars. Goodness, I have known her for twenty years and I am still not used to thinking about her burns. But her attitude and valor despite it is nothing less than admirable. She often tells me it was because of my dad. And that's probably why she's here today, to somehow return the favor.
The elevator pulls us upward but I can feel my stomach recede in fear. Even the mere ping of the elevator makes me jump. Hanako pulls me arm with such haste and force, trying to halt myself against it is a futile effort. Too fast. Too fast.
"Hanako, please stop!" Her grip finally gives.
"What's the matter Benjamin?"
"Please, I'll walk. I am in no rush to see my father… like that, please." Admitting that made my spine shiver. When my mom phoned me in England, her description was vivid. I want to try my best to forget about it. "Hisao has been through much more than this," I recall my mother say. How I would love to believe that.
Hanako obeys my request and returns to the room only about two stone throws away. My legs freeze in place thinking how close he is now. Not enough will in the body can make the damn things move. And once they obeyed, my steps come slow one after another. My thoughts are clouded and I try to shove them aside.
"My father will be okay," I whisper to myself, almost inaudibly.
My forced reassurance propels me.
"He's been through this before," again I say.
Again a step.
"He will pull through."
Another step. And finally, the door.
I twist the knob, preparing myself what I could potentially see before throwing the door open. But it flies open a second too early for me as an echoing beep sends a shiver through my bones. I willed myself in only to be greeted by a rhythm of the sound. The source is a heart meter, the kind I only see in films. It is only one of multiple machines surrounding my father, all attached to his chest. His eyes are half open as they stare right at me. His breathing, a chore. But a smile, genuine.
Around him sits friends and family. To his left, my mother holds his hands. It is only then it occurs to me that my father has trouble speaking. Somehow I believe my mother is blessed she cannot see his suffering the way I do. Beside her waits Hanako who could only twiddle her thumbs at his sight. She and I feel the same emptying powerless feeling. We want to help but it is impossible. To his right, Misha and my second cousin, Shizune, sign to each other. They are familiar gestures to me but I refuse to look. Misha's energy only matches her hair color, pink, to hide any greys she would tell me. Shizune's hair has always been short and refined, even when she took care of me as a child.
I choose the seat next to Shizune, just opposite of my mother.
"Benjamin? How was your flight?" my mom asks.
"Long." Normally I'm quite a bit more talkative, but not tonight. "How's dad?"
"Hicchan is having trouble speaking through his breathing Benichan." Misha confirms my earlier suspicions. And, in doing so, adds to the gravity of the situation.
I hold his other hand, just as my mother does. His firm grip gives me slight reassurance. But I still cannot shake away the guilt. I should have been here earlier, for my family. But I wasn't. My own father is slipping and I can't do anything about it.
He speaks, gasping for breath for every word. "Ben… don't be sad." His smile persists.
"Hisao please. You need to conserve your strength." My mother's demands only fell on deaf ears.
"Ben… I was never… the best father. But you are the best son… I could ever have." His words falter, growing increasingly weak. Please just stop dad, I can't see you like this. Even now worrying about your family, but what about yourself? God damn it.
I cannot speak. I dare not speak.
"Hicchan don't be so hard on yourself," Misha speaks. "Shicchan says Bennichan would never have been such a polite young man hadn't it been for you."
My father tries his best to laugh nudging to the direction of my mother. They are half right, my mother was the one who taught me how to be polite and respectful. My father taught me everything else though.
My mom smiles, rubbing my father's hand. "You are also the best husband anyone could have though."
Everyone draws a smile, except me. My despair is clouding any hopeful thought and I try my best to brush it off, to no avail. All I can think about is how long left. How he can be so content lying down like that is beyond me. But I choose to speak, with the only three words that come to mind. The three words I wish I could have repeated over and over to him the past twenty years of my life.
"Dad, I love you."
He merely smiles. I don't want him to say it back. I know he loves me. I just want him to know.
…
A deep breath escapes and his grip begins to fade.
He's slipping. He's slipping! God damn it, don't take him away yet, not just yet.
Hanako cups her mouth and my mom tries to squeeze warmth back in his hand. I stand with fierce velocity, my cries for his life muted by the shattering chime of the heart meter. I pull myself over him. CPR? But he has all that shit on his chest. The whole day I've been powerless, and when help is needed the most, I can't. I just can't. I'm sorry dad, I'm a failure.
Time finally caught up after I am reduced to shaking my own dad. I want to believe he was just sleeping and a few shakes would bring him back. No use.
"Misha, please get a nurse," I command through my tears. "God damn it dad, stay alive! You're supposed to be there when I graduate! And when I get married! You're supposed to know my kids! I was a doctor just for you and now-"
"Benjamin, stop!" Those two words silence me than any other I've heard from her. My mother's clouded eyes are heavy but she has no more tears. I, on the other hand, still have enough for the both of us.
My arms drop him only to see him painted with a smile. The nurses direct us out and all I can see is that smile from him. A smile telling me he's satisfied those words were the ones he wanted to hear. How I wish I would take them back if they let me keep him longer. But that would be selfish.
We wait down the hall, free from the noise from his room. Doctor after doctor rush down the hall each trying their best to resuscitate my father. I dare not look. I rather sink in my seat than be here right now. I probably would but my mom in one hand and Shizune in the other keep me afloat. Hanako and Misha sit to our opposite with their faces frozen with the same look when they left.
I take a quick glance down the hall. Through the blurs only one thing stands out: one doctor shaking his head to another.
I regret it. Why did I have to look? In a while they would tell me the outcome, so why did I have to look.
I hear slow footsteps inching their way towards us. No amount of preparation will make me ready for the news coming next.
"I'm sorry. A second heart attack was too much for him."
"So is he…"
He doesn't beat around the bush. "He passed."
He leaves. Only footsteps fill the room.
My mom hums a tune. I cannot recall what it is called and where it is from. But I just know how it goes. Perhaps a song of my childhood? I wish I could remember. I begin to hum with her.