Saturday, April 11, 2009

now.

i don't even know what to call this. b/c i'm so on another planet. i know what time is now. i know what tomorrow is & the next day & the next until we get to weds. & i hate weds with all the loathing i have in me. why. it's a day. just one stupid day. but it's the day i rested my head on my dad's knee, his hand in mine, for hours & hours while he took those apnea-breaths. until no sound, nor air, nor movement, nor life came from him ever again. & i'm doing what mom does, i'm counting down. through "tonight" last year, i still slept at the house. but "tomorrow" starts when i never left the hospital, slept in the room w/ him, didn't/couldn't leave his side. & i want to remember what he sounded like before this fucking thing took over him, took over every memory. i want to hear him. now.