post 1725

I had therapy today and all we did was talk about the passing of my father. Then I waited, in his apartment, for a while for the oxygen man to come remove the equipment they delivered yesterday. It was hard being in his apartment alone. I have been up since 0600 so after my therapy appointment, I took a snooze. I slept in his easy chair, not his bed because that would be too weird. My father had a clock that whooshes and birds call on the hour. I think when he heard it, it made passing easier. Today I heard it while talking to my therapist and busted out laughing. She didn’t get the joke. I tried to get her to understand but I was laughing too much. He loved that clock.

I am brain dead. I am going to take my meds and call it a night. Got to be back at my father’s apartment by 0930 tomorrow. I tried to rent a zipcar but because of this stupid oxygen tank bullshit, I had to cancel my reservation. I am pissed. But if the guy comes before 1000, I might still be able to make it. We’ll see.

3 thoughts on “post 1725

  1. That’s got to be kind of creepy. I mean, I lived in my father’s studio for over a year after he died, but he hadn’t died THERE. It was just where he worked, and that was creepy enough. I’m really glad I’m out of there, and I even adored my dad, not like your situation at all. As my high school Latin teacher Mr. Frates used to say, “As you sow, so shall ye reap.” Applies to everything we do in life. As to whatever happens after we die….who knows? Here on earth, it’s the living who get to deal with the goddam oxygen people. If you haven’t already taken care of it, you can call Good Will or the Salvation Army and they’ll send a truck over and take every last thing you want to get rid of. Last time I had to do such a thing, they even sent people to pack it up. Keep me in the loop, will you? I have internet for now, and I can at least be somewhere in civilization every two three days if not every day…I’m in the Navajo reservation at the moment, internet literally comes and goes according to which way the wind is blowing! How’s that for fickle???

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