Felix Bett

 Never a Goodbye Student’s Name Institution Affiliation Course Name and Number Date The steel bars of the headboard pressed with a lot of pain on my back, and I could not fell my legs anymore. I sat there holding his massive head in my hands, motionless being afraid that any slight move might disturb him. I cradled his frail and emaciated body as I kiss the thin wisps of hair softly on his head. Every moment he spends close to me was so precious because he would go soon. In those dawn dark hours, the sterile hospital smell and the bright lighting faded away as mind wander freely, probing and exploring unknown areas and looking into ideas which challenged my upbringing at the southern1. The thoughts and ideas return with new knowledge and ideas which would forever change my life. Everyone knew him as "woo." He cherished family, adventuring and love God so much. He was very daring and would climb the highest branches of any tree. At only the age of five, he would grab the manes of our untamed horses as he hoists himself onto their backs for frenzy and wild rides. At the age of nine, he started love affair which would last his lifetime2. That is the time I was born and glad to learn I already have an elder brother. His truck would disturb the whole household as it roars into the driveway. The children maneuver for positions as they ran to the door screaming and laughing. They all knew he has plenty of sweets and biscuits in his pockets. As soon he enters his tall, gawky frame filled the doorway, strawberry flaxen ringlets vivacious past his shoulders, the hold his legs with their hands forcing him to heave them into the room with him. He was always ready to play with them their favorite games were not bothering how tired he was. One would request to wrestle, and his long fingers would dance across the child's rib and elicit delights of unending squeals. Another would prefer to play "Chin music" Woo's beard would tickle as he blows "raspberries" to them on their cheeks. Many are the morning's break that he stops over for a cup of tea and quiet talk. He often gestures while talking as his sparkling azure eyes show the seriousness of the situation. Hanged across his shoulder was an old tattered hunting pouch which he refuses to leave it. He had a beautifully knitted orange cap that he always wore while hunting. The morphine drugs given on demand had affected his hands and make his face dull3. Cancer stopped his witty comments and was slowly robbing him of his life and taking him away from us slowly. We remain for six months watching him stepping closer to the eternity. Every member of the family tried to cope with the acceptance of the bare truth, each in their way. Woo has always been in my rescue for being older than me and yet the time he needed me most, am powerless to give him any help. My inner convictions of my inability to give contribute to making me furious. Buddy our oldest brother was a burly person; he still had hope despite her eyes becoming dark and haunted. Never in his thirty-five years had he fought something hard as the one at hand now. Every day he said, "Today the will find a cure for him." Rosaline, my younger sister despite in her early twenties, spent most of her time in prayers asking God to have mercy and bring miracle that will spare the life of the one who was so dear to us. Mum and Rosaline sat in silence or at times sob inconsolably. My dad was the only one calm amidst the entire storm even though he was broken-hearted. He would often say to us quietly "everything will be well, Woo is ready to go."The same night as I gently climb the bed to hold him, I understood for the first time in weeks his mangled words, "Tonya, I'm so exhausted." Rage filled me because Woo was only thirty-three years old and would never know the excitement of finding his best mate or the joy of fatherhood 4. There will be no miracle, cure and I could imagine it go. I was hungry for God. Where was He now? How could He do this? Where were His mercy, love and peace? Holding his arms in the still night, I found my peace. Not only was I going to miss the physical person, but the person inside, the beautiful spirit of the man I wanted to keep here. I knew many things from his warm understanding. There was no anger, pain, social prejudice or hatred in the world he was about to join. There was only acceptance of all humans with the patient to the new world5. As healing tears finally flow down my cheeks, I release my hold on his life whispering "Go to God." It was just after dawn, his favorite time of the day when he took the last step of his journey. I know from the deep in my heart that my brother knows his spirit is soaring free allows mine to do the same too. It was never a goodbye because we will meet again. References Fuggle S. Essay Writing. Richmond: Trotman; 2011. Pories S, Moses M, Lotz M. Cancer. Santa Barbara, Calif.: Greenwood Press; 2009. Targeting Cancer Associated Fibroblasts for Cancer Immunotherapy. Cancer Cell Microenviron. 2014. doi:10.14800/ccm.80.s