Goodbye, Mr Brecht!

This afternoon, my patient Mr Brecht died. I first got the news from a phone call from one of the other caregivers. I then got another call from another caregiver who has taken care of him for over 2 years. We chatted for a long while on the phone. I also got a text message from one of his former caregivers who was instrumental for me to do this gig which I had on a part-time basis for over a year.

Life suddenly just stops, without us getting better prepared for its departure. Who really knows when exactly the moment someone dies? I didn't even had the chance to bid him goodbye on my way out this afternoon after I was done with my gig for his wife.

I figured out somehow, based on the past few weeks that I was with him that he'd be dying soon; he was simply refusing to eat food. Perhaps, he just had so much difficulties taking in food, this life giving substance that then was turning into a terrible ordeal to ingest. There were other signs. Signs that I recall seeing from my late Father, but I was ignoring them as I was preoccupied with a lot of other things.

I just thought I have to share this, to help unload the burden, to prepare my mind for a better set of memories about him. I'm both sad and happy; he's gone through so much hardships with his health concerns. I can just imagine what happens to me when I grow much older myself (if I'd be given such opportunity). But he's been a courageous man; one of the few men I've met here to be among the most learned. I was glad to have met and known him, and have been given the chance to provide caregiving services to him. I learned so much in the process, given the fact that I never had much opportunities to have conversations with him.

On the way to the subway tonight after I went to Mr Brecht's house to express my condolences, my other co-caregiver shared some other notes now clearer to her. During my gig this afternoon, I was asked to unlock the security grill of the front window. I remember Mr Brecht's eyes, wide open with some tinge of a surprise. The grill was folded to the side to allow the windows to get unlocked and opened. The act became a prelude, a sign of his passing away, as he was then, but unknown to us, on the process of being let go.

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