I sat there, clasping his hand. It might have been a handful minutes – eternity might have passed us by in a few, fleeting moments.

I looked upwards when Papa’s hand twitched in mine.

My mind jammed when I saw his expression. He looked utterly content; he was smiling serenely despite the disturbing glaze over his eyes.

“Máire…”

My eyes roved the room, searching for the person my father had called.

Only for a little over a second, I thought I saw someone standing before Papa’s bedside.

His hand grasped mine weakly, and he turned his head to me, fixing me in a gaze which I could not look away from, no matter how I tried.

“I have to go now.”

Determined to hold the tears off, I nodded foolishly, not speaking a word.

The muscles around his face relaxed into another, relieved smile, and I heard the heart monitor go flat behind me.

I couldn’t hold it in anymore.

I pressed his lax hand to my forehead, and I cried unabashedly.

I cried knowing Papa had died with a smile on his face.