Archive for February, 2012
I was dreaming in a pitch black place facing my Dad who was looking away from me. He didn’t seem to be listening so I was screaming trying to get him to look at me, but his eyes were dead. I was screaming at him that I missed him, the old him. The one that I loved when I was a child, because I do miss him. The father that could remember things with me, make remarks.
I wanted to know and perhaps my waking self wants to know why he has to smoke pot to make him forget all the things he said to me that made my heart happy. It’s like dealing with an Alzheimer’s patient sometimes. I say a memory to him and he doesn’t remember it with me.
I was screaming and crying so hard, but he wouldn’t turn to look at me at all.
Why can’t you remember your remarks about how you regret teaching math the way you did when I was a child? You said you should have just made me memorize by rout memorization rather than teaching a base of ten and how you regretted that. Do you have to die in front of my eyes like this?
Being around him is reaching in the dark only to try to grasp that dead looking face.
Can a person die in front of your eyes without them dying? I think they can. I have seen it myself. Only this person chose to do it early.