Fresh Wound

My regular tuktuk driver came to my place an hour before the appointment. I asked him to drive me that day to see my endodontist. To kill time, I just threw a few random questions to get to know him well instead of a usual conversation. “How many children have you got?” I started off. More than just a typical response–a simple math perhaps, he told me the whole thing still. Wish I didn’t ask the question. It broke my heart so much. He could have just said two and then done, but he was brave enough to tell me how he’d lost his son in a motorbike accident four months ago. Suddenly, sorrow consumed him. I knew he was trying to hold his emotions back, but I could see that deep agony in his eyes. Seeing him almost killed me. I am a father, too.

He was only sixteen and the only son. It must have been very hard for this father to overcome that great sadness in his heart, and that longing of a dearest son, and that unbearable cry, and that hurtful reality that keeps stinging–that fresh wound still. I don’t know how he has to face it every single day or the emotion he has to feel or ignore, but he must do it and for sure face for the rest of his life. I pray for strength and inner healing will happen at the right time. It is not easy, I know, but my heart is with him.