Today is the one - class anniversary of my Dad ’s dying .
I miss him awfully .
I had a dream a few weeks ago that I was watching my life subspecies by , with Dad beside me . The two of us were sitting in the garage of his home at a table , and everything was hasten all around us . I saw my babysitter from when I was little ( I did n’t wish her back then but I ’m sure she was a squeamish little girl ) , then various old ladies we had have it away , walking in then out never to be seen again , then the paint was changing around us and objects were amount in and out , cars in and out , as if determine years pass in seconds . People long beat would appear , then disappear for good . Dad and I were shaking our heads and laughing about how thing change , and he was eat a pipe bowl of cereal at the table . Then , suddenly , the garage filled up with all the poppycock from his place . With horror – I realized we had just passed the date of his demise , and the subsequent clarification of the room where he compose his books .
“ Wait ! ” I said . “ Dad ! Now we ’ve pass you ! ” He looked at me questioningly , cocking an eyebrow . bust sprang to my eyes . “ We ’ve passed you , Dad … but you ’re still here ! ” I grabbed him and hugged him tight … and then he vanish to pieces in my arms , crumbling away .
I waken up rickety and overwhelmed with passing .
Dad was my closest friend . He adopt me after my biologic dad was polish off by Muslim terrorist . And now he ’s gone . One day , healthy , brilliant and smiling … the next , lying in a coma in a hospital bed .
“ The damage is too severe , ” the surgeon says , shaking his head . “ The human brain ca n’t take that kind of trauma . There are white spots all through his brainpower . I stopped the initial bleeding , but the chances of retrieval are near zero . ”
He was driving home from teach tiddler at a summer camp when a freak storm dumped water on the route . He hit it , spun out into a tree , slammed his head against the inside room access of the railcar , and his lights were out for unspoiled .
And then Dad lay there , unresponsive for a week , his body continuing . Muscles warm , shoulders broad , hands thick and masculine … and limp . He looked like he would just sit down up any moment . But he did n’t , no matter how we pleaded with God and cry and talked and prayed over him .
And then early this morning , one year ago , he breathed his last .
And we go on without him .
No more dolphin game with big bowls of popcorn , awful punning , conversations about theology and life-time , punk sports movies , Green Acres episodes with the grandchild , working in the backyard food forest , no more “ be intimate you , Dave , ” every fourth dimension I said goodbye on the phone .
No more . And it kill me .
I love you , Dad . And I drop you .
