A bad day

I’ve started defining my days as “Good Days” and “Bad Days” now. Today is a bad day for me. I can’t stop thinking about you today. When I think about you nowadays, I think of your eyes first. What were you trying to tell us? Those big, brown eyes staring at us from the sunken face. You wanted to go home so desperately. You had lost your voice by the time I got there. You still asked to go home everyday. Did you know the end was near? Did you want to see all your familiar things one last time? You used to get so mad when the guys came to clean your bandages. Did it hurt a lot? Did it hurt when they cleaned inside your throat? What did you think all those time when you used to stare out the window? Did you think of things you hadn’t experienced? Did you have any regrets? Did you want to have one proper meal for a change? Did you want to tell us something before you let out your last breath?
I have so many things to tell you. So many things I want to ask you. You didn’t get a chance to meet Zoya. You didn’t have time to enjoy your retirement. You didn’t get to see Lizu get married. Why did you have to leave so early!