Cuffs of memories
I have just taken a routine medical exam. As I put on the cuffs for the BP morning. Some memories flooded my mind again.
I remember you lying on the hospital bed getting your blood pressure done blood pressure done, being whiny because you dislike the nurses coming near you. We were beside you wishing all your stats will go back to baseline and you will be ok and we will all go home together.
I could understand why. It meant that you were unwell enough to warrant a stay in the hospital. It meant that you had to face the strangers in the form of the nurses and doctors.
Taking the BP myself reminded me of the days in hospital. Taking blood pressure was the only thing we didn’t do at home, and only did it if we are in the hospital, except for your weekly/fortnightly palliative care team checks at home.
I miss you dearly. I know you hate snuggles but I wish for one more moment of snuggling with you just to smell you one more time, just to kiss you one more time.
Having you was the best thing that happened to me in my life. Losing you was the most painful thing in my life. I’ve cried the hardest. I’ve cried the longest in my life when i carried you for the last time, placed you in the casket and realised that it will be the last time holding you