My father is dying.

I spoke to my brother last night, and he says that my father is on his way down. Truth is, he’s been on his way down for a long time now.

Right now, I am scared. Scared to lose my father. That’s the little girl part of me, but the woman knows that my father has been in self-destruct mode for so long that at this point, if the end is nigh, it’s not to stop him, but to allow him to follow his determination to it’s logical conclusion.

And here’s the thing, he is determined to die. My brother says it’s going to be soon.

I hardly write about my father, and there are so many things going through my mind, that I am still not sure what to write. I cannot tell you that I don’t care… I cannot tell you that I am emotional and crying. I’m in a state of suspended emotion if you like.

I don’t write about my father. It’s much too hard.

Friday night, when I was there on the phone, listening to my brother give me the goods about Papi’s health, I cried, just a little. The next day, I went down to Ms. G’s both to see her and to collect mail she had for me.

When I got there it was a letter from my father in one envelope, and a birthday card in the other.

I am my father’s favourite child. I am his only daughter, and writing about him is still so very hard.

I cried when I opened the cards, but I haven’t cried since. I am afraid my father will die and lose his shot at redemption, maybe his moment of redemption has come and he did what he could and is ready to pass on.

I simply cannot say all that is in my heart to say. I’ve been putting off this post since Friday night, unsure of what to say, what to write. This is so simplistic and inadequate, but I can write no more at this time.

My father is dying.

Mi padre está muriendo.

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The Vault


mermaid, dayo's mama, water priestess, chaNjuzu, writer, web developer, omo yemoja, dos aguas, obsessive reader, sci-fi fan, trini-bajan, combermerian, second life, music, music, music!