Stillness

The nurse screamed. We ran upstairs. We were looking at each other as we climbed the steps. Rapidly. Anxiously. We knew the solemn time had come.

Then we all started to count in absolute silence. One, two, three, …fast. One, two, three, … not as fast. One, two, three … more slowly. One, two, three … even more slowly. We were holding hands, looking at what was happening in front of us.

Then one … two … three … It seemed an eternity. One .. two. We were waiting. Finally … three. The count resumed. Painfully slow. One …. The next count never took place.

Time stopped. The finite and infinite were in front of us. The time had stopped as we witnessed a magnificent moment. Our own very personal moment.

Gloria, the loyal Philippine nurse, closed his eyes. When people left I opened them again. He was looking at me. His eyes were still. A door into infinity in a finite world.

Finite and infinite were in front of me. Finally merged. Peacefully. In complete stillness. Shivering immobility. It was solemn and absurd. Yet true. I saw something I had never seen before. A sense of beauty and peace. A sense that something enormous was happening.

I was overwhelmed because in that brief moment I understood something exceptionally unique. Beautiful. Solemn. Universal. Through the emptiness of his eyes. I was part of it. I was in it. For a short moment, through his eyes, the gate between life and death had opened and I was allowed to stay on its threshold.

It was the last grand lesson my father honored me with as he died on September 3, 2001 at 10:06 pm. There. In front of me.

So long, Captain.