Almost Late

Rathapong Ploencharoensri
Thailand
ESOL 400
Fall 2007

It was exactly on Valentine’s Day in 2006 that I was awakened by a strange call in the early morning. Usually, nobody would give me a call around that time. My friends knew that I would be in a bad mood for the whole day if I had to wake up so early. I tried to dig myself out of the bed and looked around to find my cell phone. While looking for the phone, I saw the sun had risen, shining fresh light through my window. I did not know for certain how the weather outside was because a heater in an apartment kept me warm all night, but I was sure it must be really cold out there since it was still winter. I felt a little bit cranky because my phone kept repeatedly ringing. Finally, I found the phone and saw the long distance number, which was familiar to me, showing on the phone display. Oh…it was my family’s number.

I suddenly became calm and answered the phone with a drowsy voice. “Hello. Who’s that?” I asked “Hello. What time is it there?” I noticed that it was my mother’s simple voice. “It’s just 7.15 in the morning. What’s going on, Mom?” I slowly replied. Then, without an introduction, she said, “Dad’s got liver cancer.” I was extremely shocked right at that moment. I hoped that I would be sleeping and was having a bad dream, so everything would be fine when I woke up.

Unfortunately, it was not a bad dream. It was absolutely true, and then I got back to focus on the conversation with my mom. My mom told me the entire story: that dad had his annual check up, and the doctor gave him the bad news. My dad came home normally without a sign of sickness, and told mom that he was in the final stage of liver cancer and could live for 4-6 months depending on his health. My mom felt so blue for a while. Then, she realized that she had to be strong enough so that my dad did not have to worry about anything. One important thing that my dad did not forget to immediately warn mom about was that mom must not call New York. My mom suddenly knew that, by New York, my father implied me.

I had been in the States for almost 3 years and, at that time, I was studying Graphic Design in New York City. During the 3 years that I had stayed in the States, I had no chance to go back to visit my family even once because of my student visa. All I could do was to chat over the computer or to make an overseas call, and wait for the time that I would get admitted to a college so that I could be more confident in re-applying for a new visa.

Although this terrible news made me want to go back to my country, Thailand, badly, I had to pretend that nothing had happened to my dad. I made several calls back home since then and talked to everyone in my family. My family and I acted normally, but we actually knew that what was going to happen. Every time we had a conversation over the phone, my father kept telling me that I must obtain a degree before going back home. I know that I am the oldest son of my family and the family responsibility would fall on me according to my culture. Inside, my dad strongly expected me to be the family leader after his passing, I believed. Since my family is Buddhist, I have been taught all the time that no one is immortal and all of my family accepts that fact. However, I did not expect my dad to pass away at such an early age. His time should not have come this soon. My dad and I talked more often, and I could notice that my dad was gradually getting worse from time to time. He had been sent back and forth between home and the hospital a few times. I knew the situation because of my mom.

In the middle of May, in the same year, I had no patience acting like nothing was happening anymore. After having the last long distance talk with my dad, I decided to fly back to Thailand immediately, without telling anyone, even though my dad still pretended to be fine and hid his sickness from me. My dad’s voice was dramatically awful, which made me worry that I would not have a chance to see him for the last time. Once the plane landed in Thailand, without exhaustion, I caught a taxi heading to the hospital. I entered the patient’s room quickly, where my dad, with his feeble body, was lying on the bed. My family was also in the room and they were all surprised that I could possibly be there. Only my mom seemed not to be surprised. I thought she might have guessed that I might go back there at any time, since she kept letting me know every move in my family. The first question that my dad asked me was: “Why are you here? You’re supposed to be in the States and having an exam in a couple of days, aren’t you?” I answered back calmly, “Don’t you worry dad. I’ve postponed the exam date already.” Then, he kept asking me a lot of questions both about how I knew that he was sick and how my life was while staying alone in the US. We had a good face-to-face conversation after not having had one for 3 years. Our conversation began to flow without stopping. At that moment, my head was completely empty. I knew that my dad was half-conscious and half unconscious. He tried hard to make me worry less about his terrible symptoms. We all knew what was going to happen. All I could do was to pray to Buddha and hope that my dad would not have to painfully suffer from his decease, and that he would rest in peace.

I stayed at the hospital and kept my dad within my sight for the rest of his time. Five days after my arrival, my dad died peacefully. The last promise that I made to his dead body was that I would earn a degree, as he longed to see me to obtain one. I also thanked Buddha for giving me the last chance to see my dad alive. “Dad, I promise I will do my best.”