2 weeks notice

He had a dazed look as he struggled to hold himself up for the birthday picture with his son, my uncle.

Arms folded, I stood half a head taller behind the rest of my female cousins, all of them busy snapping photos of the two of them with their handphones and cameras, laughing and joking away.

I feel that this simple celebration of my uncle's birthday is a small respite from the exhausting journey the family is going through right now; accompanying him through the last stages of his life.

I didn't indulge in this temporary false mirth in that room rather I felt unease by the sight of grandpa. The ravages of the disease made his ribs so prominently shown by his now oversized uncle type of polo-tee, his eyes looked puffy and the cheeks were sunk in.
Skeleton, he looked just like a skeleton with my grandpa features clung onto the frame.

I felt weird, went to the living room and attempted to watch TV but my mind was racing.
"this is the last time my uncle and his dad will be taking pictures together"
"the last celebration of ur birthday with your dad"
"2 weeks 2 weeks, how will it end?"
What a pessimistic prick.
The birthday song ended and I clapped from the living room with grandma beside me.
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