Stroke 2: The First Anniversary

It was almost this time exactly one year ago that Dad lost his voice forever.

It's a debate in my mind whether or not today marks a day darker than August 3 when he passed. In August he was released whereas on May 8 he was trapped.

I agreed to work a full day at the bookstore today without realizing what today was. But I'm glad I did in some respects, it probably kept me from bawling all day. There is a funeral at the building today which makes for an interesting environment. It makes for a somber one certainly, which is how I feel too so at least we're all together in it.

I made the mistake of listening to the tape that I most remember him playing in the car when I was a kid. I was in the fetal position within a track. (Also, it's a really good album)

Dream (again)

I had the best dream this morning. We lived in some beach town for the summer. Mom had work and I stayed home to take care of Dad. He was doing beautifully. He could walk and talk a little, his spirits were up and we laughed like old times. I could tell he was still sick but I felt like we were winning.

And then I watched some weird music video, it was a strange animation and it was supposed to be some Kurt Cobain song about his wife and daughter who he was about to leave behind. The lyrics were something like, “she’s my Diana but I feel like I must go home”. And I knew it was the end of the dream.

I woke up and cried. For those first few moments of consciousness I thought Dad was going to be okay, we would get him through and we could all be happy again.

3 Minutes of Pure Joy

The highlight of my work day yesterday was a fellow carrying a copy of American Gods.

“Do you like Neil Gaiman??!!” I asked excitedly. Then he did the best thing — he asked for my recommendations and feelings about Neil Gaiman.

Needless to say he now has a list in his head of what to read next.