The night I came home from dinner with my mother was a rough one for me. I sat up very late, mostly just thinking, and mainly just about my father. Seeing my mother so weak and realizing how alone she really must be, all due to her own selfish bullshit, made me realize how alone I really am too.
I have great friends that I grew up with in highschool. We get together a couple times a year for backyard BBQ’s and whiffle ball. And if I called Jake and needed a favor, he’d help, because that’s the kind of guy he is. But they rightfully all have their own lives, their own marriages, their own homes and responsibilities. We don’t call each other a lot, and may not see each other a lot, but when we get together, it’s always like old times.
I’m not close to any family on either side, except for my cousin Stephanie. She’s in Germany now, and her husband is being transfered to Georgia, where she plans to stay. So we may be able to talk online or on the phone a lot, but obviously visits are going to be seldom.
So I guess essentially all I have is my dad. I love my dad more than anything. The realization that every day I spend with him is so overwhelmingly precious anymore because I don’t know when he’ll eventually pass on, is very scary. I have to get used to the idea, and to the idea of being here alone, which is fine I guess. I’m trying to get my finances in order now so that I can afford living on my own, but it’s not easy.
Lately, especially Sunday mornings, I’ve been leaving a recorder on while my dad listens to his bluegrass music, sings, and cooks breakfast. I’m saving these to listen to and remember just how precious my dad really is over the years. Does that sound weird?
There is, of course, always my sweetheart too. But you can never tell how those things will really go. My planning just can’t include him in case things don’t work out, and lately they’ve been really weird.
