Saturday, September 17, 2011


The last time I saw my father - sometime in late March - he had two legs.

Now much of his right leg has been removed and it just doesn't seem right to me that I wasn't present for either of the two surgeries he had.

In 1982, when Mom left Dad, I started to become the family caretaker, the one who pulled everyone together and made sure things got done.

This time it's my brothers who are doing all the work. It's my brothers who are part of the scene and creating closeness and memories I won't ever be part of.

My Dad and I have always been close. But this time I'm not there and it really hurts. I just hope it hurts me more than it hurts him.

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