I am wide awake at this ungodly hour because my body and soul are restless. That, and there seems to be a party of sorts going on next door; I looked over and believe me, for all the noise, it sure isn’t much of a party.
I decided to write, but I fear with my fatigue and general irritability, it will come to no good.
What the hell, it is just a blog, and further more it is my blog, so write I will, and critics be dammed, I am going to click publish.
Today is November 25th – this morning my father will have been dead for 40 years.
That is a long time.
My mother outlives him yet, even though as she gets closer to 90 her fragility increases with each passing day. She thinks about death more and more, although I am quite sure she is no hurry to make that journey.
I wonder, does he wait for her on the other side?
My mother says that November is by far the grayest and dumbest month of the year. I agree with her, if it weren’t for the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade I would stay in bed the whole month.
Daddy, rest in peace, but you can’t have her yet.