Sometimes, I’ll just be sitting, minding my own business, watching a movie, eating a cookie, reading a page in a book and I’ll think, “my father is dead.” And it’s a thing I just can’t reason my way out of.

My father is dead
He died while I was in a hotel in San Francisco
Drinking red wine and eating chocolate truffles
His last breath slipped from his body
As I slipped into a drunken haze
Happy, blissful, I was finally living
As he lay dying
There’s an irony to that
I have yet to put my finger on it
“I give up”
That’s the last thing he said to me
Text to me, and I breathed a sigh of relief
Finally I was free. Free of the pestering
Free to just be, live my life without any worry
Certain that he’d be there when I needed him to be
I just needed a minute to breathe
All these minutes are too much for me