my father just got off the phone with his sister. it didnt take long for me to realize something was wrong. i could hear it in his voice, the way he tries to keep his emotions under control, fighting back tears. "well its a good thing we went and visited them when we did" he started, feigning a casual tone. "why?" my sister asked. "because my father just had a stroke."
it hasnt hit me yet, though it should have. i dont know why it doesnt bother me. maybe because i have the insane hope that he'll make it? the chances are slim. he's over ninety, weighs less than my sister, and he's been slowly declining for the past year. maybe thats why, because i had come to terms with it earlier? i knew it was an inevitable fact of life? what bolluscks. i know it will hit me soon, maybe when my dad brings it up at dinner, which, i need to eat right now.
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