He has tears in his eyes, as his daughter wheels him to the operation theatre. She is a renowned surgeon, and he is happy to see that her hands do not waver.
When did his daughter grow up? The last he remembers was holding her up in his arms, and going round in circles. Then, fatherhood was about choosing the best educational institutions, paying her credit card bills and checking if she will be home for holidays.
“Dad, the surgery starts at sharp 4.30 p.m. I hope you are not nervous. We have the best team of doctors available here.”
In a few minutes he would be under the effect of anaesthesia.
Was he really alive all these days? Measuring life with money, calendars, clocks …… Had he missed out on something more which was on offer, but passed unnoticed?
He looked forward to spending more time with his family at home, as he gradually lost consciousness.