So, my Dad is dying. For those of you who’ve been around for a while, you may remember that I used to worry that no one would tell me when it happened, but clearly, that’s not going to be a problem.
I haven’t seen my Dad in about 34 years, and haven’t seen him with any regularlity since he and my Mom got divorced and he moved away. So this is not a story of how much I loved him and will miss him, not a tale of what a wonderful man he was.
No, it’s more like, well, fuck, there are going to be feelings attached to this, and what the hell am I supposed to do with that????
He might live 2 hours, 2 days, 2 weeks – no idea.
He wouldn’t know me if I went to see him.
I don’t think I want to see him anyhow. You know?