The endless wait and the tears

11th August 2015

The family came to pick me up at 1:30am. We piled in to the car and my BIL drove. I couldn’t stop crying. I told my BIL “I knew this would happen one day”. Still there was hope. They said he was critical and I prayed that let him be hurt anywhere except his head.

After 2 hours of sitting shotgun and crying I couldn’t take it anymore. I asked my BIL to move over and took over driving. I needed to get there faster – time was slipping away! I imagined him in a hospital bed, hurt, in pain and waiting for me. I had to get there asap.

We drove all night, no one saying a word. Even I didn’t ask any questions – where did it happen, how, how much is he hurt – nothing. We reached the city where the hospital was by 7:30am. I told my BIL I want to go directly to the hospital. But he had a little baby – a 1.5 yr old – and he said the kid needs to be dropped at a relatives house. I was impatient, I wanted to be with G. But I waited – I had been waiting, praying and crying for 6 hours now. In between (around 2:30am) I had dropped a message to my business partners that G is hurt and I am going to be away for god knows how long. By morning they were trying to reach me, but my first thought was to see G and make sure he’s ok.

For now, we headed to the relatives’ house presumably to drop the kid off. But then everyone got off the car. I didn’t want to. I kept saying I have to go to the hospital but no one listened to me. They said come up for a minute and then we’ll go. I didn’t want to go up to the house. G was waiting, who knows in what shape. By the time we reached the flat I was crying again – something was very wrong. Why are we not at the hospital? Why are we here on a social visit???

I stepped in the house and no one had to tell me anything. Everyone was crying, and hugging me, and somehow I knew and I was howling and they were holding me down. And I kept my eyes on my BIL – he had told me G was critical – that meant he was alive. That he’s no more is not possible. I kept looking at him to tell me it’s all a mistake. They mixed up somehow. And that someone else was dead. But he kept quiet and walked away!

I didn’t know I had it in me to cry like that. I wanted to run to the hospital and see him. But they said there is nothing at the hospital. They had put him in the morgue and I couldn’t see him until the police formalities were done.

So there was nothing to do but to sit and cry and hope that it was all a bad mixup. Or a bad dream that I will wake up from! I am still trying to wake up…


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