The gentle hum of the vending machine is going off softly as worried faces congregate in the room. I hold on the the very warm cup of brown waste in my hand as if it this last thing alive, but I know deep down that it will not help. Click click. Click click. The sound of heels echoing down the corridor to the small waiting room felt like a countdown. Good or bad we would only see. The door swung wide to see a woman with wiry grey hair in a nurses uniform.
"He is stable, you may see him shortly." She said and walked away. She didn't need to show us the way, we knew it. We had been here mostly for the past three weeks. So the five us, half walking, half sprinting made our way to the room.
We pushed open the white washed door, to see a man younger than forty laid on the bed connected to the machine. As we walked through the door a familiar smile crept across his face, the same that I had inherited from him. We rushed over to his side.
"Hey guys" He croaked. The sound hissed as it escaped his throat. You could see he was sick, but we all just smiled. When a person wants to laugh, they laugh. When they want to cry, they cry. When they know the person they love is dying all they do is smile to hide the pain. We were all smiling.
" I love you - you - you" He was coughing which spluttered his speech, but we all knew what he was trying to say.
"shush darling. You need to take it easy" My mother said stoking his curly hair. She smiled through the tears. Her eyes red and puffy from the wet.
"Ross. Ross come here." He whispered. I edged slowly over to his bed and he took hold of my rm.
"When I die Ross - write a poem and read it for - for- for me at my funeral." he spluttered.
"I won't have to write that for years yet though right Dad?"I answered. Tears were welling up in my eyes and a lump formed in my throat. He smiled weakly and rubbed my arm. He pulled me closer.
"You might have to write it in a couple of hours." He whispered softly into my ear. That was it, he had admitted defeat. The white flag was up. The towel thrown in. All over.
"Joanne my darling. all my life you have been my rock all my life, and I love you so much. You have been an angel and I have never loved someone so much. Thank you for being there for me in times of need and I have tried to be their for you to. I hope I have served you proud."He spoke with such pain. My mother had burst into tears and was now dampening the sheets with beads of dew.
"Trudy pass me that bag." His sister handed him a plastic bag from a chair behind her. He pulled out a piece of paper with his hands shaking and passed it her. As it touched her hands all the tears left her.
"This was from when he took me out for the first time. I brought his horoscope from the paper and told him to look after it, and one day it would bring him luck. I love you Peter." She finished as she placed a kiss on his forehead.
"Thank you for being here for me. It has meant the world to me. I love you." as he said this his eyes slowly closed as if he could not with stand the pressure. He was gone, forever. As we walked out of the room the poem fell into my head.
Upon the highest mountains,
across the endless seas,
down the endless rivers
and through the vast trees.
I am searching for an angel
one with pearly wings
in a white dress
carrying heavenly things.
I need to give them a message
an important one at that.
I need to tell them
to take care of my dad.
He is my role model,
my idol and my saint.
Now he is sat in heaven
by st Peter's gate.
The angels are so lucky
to have him up with them.
I would give my entire world
just to see him again.
I will love you forever,dad.
Please sit and wait for me.
The angels might have you now,
but you belong to me.
I read that at his funeral. For once everyone felt pain and their was not one smile. I stood there at the front of the sea of black. For filling my fathers last wish and feeling my heart break with every word.
