The truth about living.

I sat in the hospital ward, looking at the things around me, the smell of medicines and chemicals makes my stomach surged in disagreement with its surrounding. I stole a feel looks at him and tried to think of something to say, a topic to converse. He looked grumpy, now more then seventy years old, all he intended was a check-up and they detained him in this foul place for two long days. The bed was too small and too high, old and soft that he said he slump into it. His bloated tummy and weak legs didn't help in this case.

He looked at the old ladies in the opposite ward, they are older than him, so old that they sat in wheel chairs and have problems raising spoons to their mouth. Then he said to me, "It's no good for a man to live that long you know, there are just more troubles," I did not know what to say, mum just told me that the doctor said he have a couple of dark spots in his liver yesterday but forbid me to tell him because he might not be able to accept it in these circumstances. "Look that those old ladies their, they can barely walk, I don't think I wanna suffer like that." I just told him in my mother tongue, "Grandpa, don't think so much, you're just here for a check-up. We just want some assurance that you are fine. That's all. I'm sure you are."

He was discharged the next day, but all of us can see that he detests all the things in the hospital, maybe even himself. Seeing him hating the fact that he is old and sick. I didn't even notice that he had one part of his middle finger cut away, Yvonne said it was an accident when he was a carpenter long time ago. His right foot was swollen the last time I saw him at home. He is much slower now, his temper better than when he was young but not at all good. I didn't get to send him home, mum sent me to the office to sort out some paper works after we had lunch the day he was discharged.

That's my grandfather. He attempted to take his own life yesterday, not wanting to live another moment suffering. He is not the young hot-blooded man anymore, mum said he's afraid of suffering. He took all the medicine that the doctor prescribe for two weeks in one night. They sent him to the hospital after that. He is alright, the doctor said that those medicine are mainly painkillers. They made him drowsy, he could not even walk on the way home.

He does not know the truth. What's the truth about living anyway? We live, the moment when we're alive we cries our heart out, we must have known we're in for some pretty bad falls, sickness, pain, heartache, heartbreaks, some failure, a lot of fear and some abandons by the people we love. Those who realize it, we live, those who did not died, those are the babies who doesn't cry at the moment of birth. We all have our fair share of those that we don't want. Some face it with a brave spirit, some simply ignore them, some go in fear and struggle, others, in peace.

Who are we to decide in what way we are gonna face it. After all, we are just human. Weak and mild, fearful and cowardly, impulsive and agressive, helpless and lost. Who are we to decide what courage we can muster, what faith we can live on. I asked for peace, God gave me love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self control. I am weak but I have a shelter like no other. Everyday I would look out my window, see the world outside of me. They who don't have God, live in fear, confusion, troubled by their past, troubled by their lack of self control, regret in their lack of kindness to others only when they need kindness, hunger for gentleness in a situation of hostility. What they look for, they could not find.

My God, is big, so good, and mighty. But in these moments I can just sob to Him. "God, have mercy on them! Bring them life, don't You see that they are suffering without You. Everyday of their life, every step of their way, they take it in confusion. Father, have mercy on them." He said, "They have to ask. For Me."



-a sobbing servant-