text: “Hi Dad,” I whispered in my father’s ear. His eyes opened. He blinked a couple times, turned his head weakly towards mine, and gave a slight smile. “Hi Michael,” he replied, and started coughing. After the coughing fit subsided, he looked up at the hospital ceiling. There was silence for a while, which I eventually broke. “How have the nurses been treating you?” I asked, hoping it would start a conversation. He turned his eyes back towards me. His pale blue eyes had little life in them, and no longer had a sparkle like they did when he was younger. “They’ve been good,” he said. Silence again. I knew what was on his mind, because it was on mine, too. He was going to die. I was all the family he had left. My mother had died a couple years earlier, and I was his only child. We were close many years ago, but as time passed, we talked less and less, and we had reunited only when he became very sick. I visited him every day since he was admitted to the hospital, but our conversations and visits were very brief. I wanted to be closer to my father, but I felt like I didn’t have the time. Which I knew was a stupid reason; I could always make time for my father. I just didn’t. Nurses tended to my father while we both sat in silence. It was awkward for both of us, but I knew my father needed company, so I stayed. After the nurses left, I got up from my chair to leave. “Michael,” my father feebly said from his bed. I turned around. My father had tears in his eyes, and they were falling down his cheeks. I quickly rushed over to him. “What is it, Dad?” I asked, concerned that something was seriously wrong. My father continued to cry. I wiped away his tears. “I love you,” he said. I felt as though I had been hit with a ton of bricks. I realized just how dumb I had been to ignore my father, how dumb I had been to never have the courage to say what he said. I could feel the tears well up in my eyes, and our eyes met. “I love you too, Dad,” I whispered. My father smiled, and I smiled too. Suddenly, my father’s breathing became irregular. He clutched at his chest, and his eyes grew wide. I understood exactly what was happening, despite him not saying a word. I ran outside the room, screaming for a nurse. Nurses rushed into his room, frantically trying to assist him. I dropped to my knees outside the room, crying, begging God to let my dad live. The beeping of his heart monitor grew faster and faster, until eventually it flatlined. I wanted to scream, but nothing came out. There was only silence except for the heart monitor. I fainted. Despite seeing my father die, I feel at peace. I got to finally unite with him, even if it was only for a few minutes. There’s still a part of me that feels guilt for not spending more time with him, and I fear I’ll feel that for a very long time. But at least I got to see him one last time.