You (Part VII)

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7) Nadir
Time: 0 years

Your father and I will be silent in the car, as it moves smoothly down the highway. It will be our first meeting in fifteen year, the first after the divorce.

Unlike the day you were born, however, there were no recriminations hanging in the air. What would you say, if you had known that your father didn’t care enough to accuse me of not taking a tighter attitude with you, I wondered sadly.

In the last few years we spent together, our relationship had improved by leaps and bounds as I left you to make your own path in life. We no longer talked about my consciousness, nor the apparent fear I had regarding your climbing. You continued on with the rock climbing team in all those years, passionate about the sport as you were. It was a common understanding between us, however, that you would take all precautions when climbing.

What would I have done, now that I am finally at this point in time, if time was reversed and I could choose all over again? Would I still have picked the same path? Or would I have chosen to act differently? I had no answer for that. Besides, even with my holistic consciousness, I was powerless to turn back time.

I remembered the call that finally came today, confirming the worst of my fears. The man said in portentous tones, that there had been a rock climbing accident in school caused by faulty gears, and that my daughter was involved. Could I please make a trip down to the hospital.

Woodenly, knowing the worst was finally here, I called your dad, and succinctly gave him the pertinent details, asking him if he wanted to come along, not caring if he did or did not.

When we finally reached the hospital, we were not directed to the operating room, but to the morgue. A technician checked our IDs and opened a square metallic fridge door, sliding a platform out. He then unzipped the black body bag.

Many times since the beginning, I have seen this scene, known it was to come. Yet nothing could have prepared me for the real thing, as I gazed at your grey unmoving face. Crying tears, I pressed a brief kiss on your ice cold forehead, memorizing every single detail of your beloved face as your father nodded an affirmation to the technician.

Images flashed in my mind, much like a movie. Images of when I first held you, when you first took your first step, when you sported your first tooth. Pictures of you receiving a prize in primary school, of you blowing out the candles on your birthday cake, of you proudly showing off your pet mice. Photos of you arguing with me, talking and laughing with me, climbing the rock wall in your junior college.

Pictures of a life too soon flown past, of an existence that had yet to be fully lived.

These mental Polaroids were stored permanently in my mind and heart, as I bid you a final farewell.

My pride, my joy, my love.

My daughter.

Finally, at the lowest point of my life, I made my choice.

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