Williamstown hospital. Purplish veins threatened to burst as his skeletal hands struggled to pull down the yellowed nappy which had been taped in place to prevent such attempts. It barely moved at all. He grunted in a tone that sounded both confused, and enraged. He wasn't aware that I was next to him at that point, although I'd been there a while. I looked around for a nurse, panicked - for both our sakes.
Later, after the nurse left, I burst into tears, and tried to wrap my arms around his stiff blue-flannelette covered frame. I felt certain that this was one of my last visits. He'd moved only slightly, and uttered very little sense over the previous few days. My tears fell pathetically out of sheer helplessness. I wanted to squeeze answers, and stories out of him. Tell me about the Korean war, Nan, Dad when he was a boy, and St.Kilda, I'd never felt comfortable enough to ask.
Then, with a fierce, desperate strength, I felt he'd reserved just for me, he pulled me close, and ordered me to stop crying, and kiss him. He reassured me that it was okay. I hugged him tightly, as if to forgive the years of distance.
The following day, solemn faces of my family looked over him as he merely slept. I felt simultaneously privileged and guilty for having experienced his hug in place of his children.
Kimberley Irene
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