Diary Entry
Father is sick
As my father and I lay in the old cold mouldy shed, I held his warm hands with tears and fear running down my face. I could feel the weakness in him. His face is cold and is very sick. I had a bad feeling in my gut that a day like this will come where my father is sick and will be leaving me real soon.
The Burial Day
As i'm standing, looking at the mans lowering my father down to his grave, I felt exhausted from digging up a whole to lay him in peace.
I’m speechless and dejected that I can’t see my father again but he’s resting in a better place now.
As I’m walking away, I can feel dust everywhere, covering up my clothes, I can feel the warmth of my father’s hands wrapping around me. I may not see him, but I know he’s with me every step on the way.