12th August 2015
I don’t know how we got back home. But we were there and the waiting started again. They would now do the postmortem and after that we could take him. Earlier in the day I had already texted his brother:
“However u r taking him to H, I will go with him. No other arrangement is to be done.”
From the hospital to H it was a journey of 3-4 hours. These were the last hours i’d be spending with him. I couldn’t give in to protocol or what was appropriate. I had to hold his hand. I had to be close to him.
Around 5:30pm we started for the hospital again. They had asked us to bring a bed sheet. When I got there they’d already put him in the ambulance that’ll take him to H. Some people presented tried to say that I shouldn’t go with him. But my BIL was adamant. If I wanted to be in the ambulance, that’s where i’ll be. I think he understood what I needed. And i’ll never forget that kindness.
After the procedure they had wrapped him head to toe in a white sheet and tied him with ropes. There was no possibility of even holding his hand a last time. When I sat inside the ambulance, he was covered with the sheet we had got. Only once the ambulance started moving could I remove the sheet from his face and see him.
He looked asleep and at peace. I kept my hand on his heart, but it was all so cold.When he was alive, he would often come home late, when I’d already gone to bed. If it was cold outside, he’ll snuggle under the covers and stick to me to warm up. I cribbed so much that he’s taking up the warmth. Nothing I do now would ever warm him up again. And what would I not do now!