Ho saputo che il mio babbo stava lottando contro il cancro da due anni, but he was always optimistic and confident that I would be cured. So I have been slow to come to him, partly because there were 400 miles between us. I have often called on the phone, and he talked about his plans for the future, as usual ~ was still a fairly young man and had much to do. Then my sister called me to tell me that I should go there if I wanted to take leave of him. A week later I boarded the plane heading north. During the flight, I used the time to take note of some things to talk about with him, a sort of "letters to my father."
My sister was waiting for me to ' airport and I was immediately told that our father had deteriorated and was in a coma. He quickly drove to the hospital.
I had warned that the disease - and treatment - had a negative effect, but I was not prepared for that aspect in front of me. I knew old man who was there. Only then, when I took her hands, I recognized as my father. I knew those big strong hands.
As I read aloud a letter of farewell, with tears in my eyes, I wanted him to look at me one last time, but not è accaduto.
Brynja, Kópavogur
ICELAND
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