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His bed sits right next to mine. It has been four days since he fell and was rushed into the hospital. This night, I see that the hospital windows’ silhouette lines and the quiet hush of night are the best things that exist. This night’s quiet to us, unlike the previous ones in which my father screams from his pelvic fracture. He’d always reach for my hand and put it on his lips, longing for affection from his son. He tells me to take care of my siblings and my mother once he dies. He would undergo an orthopedic surgery days from now. He would also continue his therapy for his stroke in time. I asked the surgeon if he can go through it very well.. I received a vague response. I love my father so much. I know he can survive. He had a bladder and a heart surgery before. I know how strong he is. He will be fine.