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what_can_you_do_when
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perfectly_chaotic
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Your father tells you for the first time that he is not sure if he'll make it more than another couple years judging by the way things have been going the past couple months....
All I could do was tell him I love him and will miss him whenever that day comes. Tell him that I hope that he has a few more years left in him if he want to.
All I can do right now is cry. Love and cry. Howl and cry. Moan and cry. And cry. And cry. And cry.
I'm gonna miss him so much whenever that day comes, but damn does it ever hurt to just know and really begin to mourn the loss of that which is still here. He's says he's been sick so much lately that it makes it hard for him to concentrate. He seems tired so much of the time. I always knew he was going to get older and still know that death will come someday, but, damn, what the fuck good does having known that do me while I am actually watching this all go down? Knowing what is coming doesn't mean anything or help with shit...
I fucking love you dad and I always will.
Gotta get back to crying now.
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110808
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jane
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this may not help,
but it comes from a place of love.
please cherish the opportunity
to say goodbye.
it's been almost a year
since sam left us
unexpectedly.
and i still cringe
when i think about
the last time we saw him
how my stomach acted up
and we had to leave early.
sigh
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110809
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perfectly_chaotic
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Life is so short. In a way it seems quicker than a flash of lighting. It's like watching the hammer come down from the view of the nail's head. Every moment is so very rich and it makes me want to cry out with love the way a dog cries, or maybe howls, at the death of a full moon with a few clouds attending the wake. Every moment sings of its wonderful existence.
Earlier today I stopped and looked up as I felt a cool breeze which made the trees weep aloud as a willow's leafs, being defoliated a bit early in the year, floated slowly down like tear drops from the heavens in an eerie sort of beautiful heavy air. I saw all this through the wet blurry contact lenses that were destined to become the tears destined to leave moist streaks down my cheeks. First the right cheek, then left.
Beautiful streaks of bright white floating around one another in random, chaotic spirals through the air in a random fashion found their way in front of my face. The lepidoptera, butterflies, were closely chasing one another in a dance which I imagine to be similar to the way homo sapiens chase one another to produce another child destined to go through the same lightning and thunder of life which we are all a part of. So touching it was frightening.
Also, thank you for the kind words Jane.
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110809
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