I went back there after almost an year. I went back to the place where I was on the brink of losing everything I hold dear. I remember thinking to myself that I would never want to come here again. I wouldn’t want anyone to come here, to be in the place that I once was.
I went to Hamad Hospital to visit someone. I walked through the endless hallways leading to all types of doors for Radiology, Ultrasound rooms, Operation Theater etc. All of the sofas and comfy chairs where I used to sit, using my laptop catching up on work, praying for Abbu or meeting one of the many visitors that we had. The hospital cafes that saw my pocket money being spent on Cheesecakes, Coffees and Croissants. Food has a way of comforting you in the bleakest of times.
The valet parking where I left my car without even bothering to take the receipt knowing that it didn’t matter. The Bougainvillea that surrounds half of the canopy right outside the entrance of the hospital. That car park divided unevenly for staff and visitors, used to greet me with open arms, four times a day, sometimes even more.
These hallways, lifts, doors and staircase hold a vast amount of memories for me. Most of whom I wouldn’t like to revisit. But I did.
And I have never been more thankful.
Being thankful is a very small deed.
There were days when we used to sit there not knowing what was going to happen. And now the days are filled with him bickering endlessly with us.
I am on my way to my parents house.
Today, I am going to look at my father, give him a huge “pappi” (kiss), hug him tightly and never let go.