Time heals wounds….what?

I guess maybe there is pretend truth to the statement that time heals all wounds.

This was the first year since that awful day in 2002 when “God” took Daddy from this world that I didn’t hone in on the date.

Of course, I don’t believe that “God” took him.[1] I believe that we aren’t yet skilled enough in science to have saved him. The DOG knew weeks before. My MOM knew weeks before, too, but she can’t remember any of her behavior that then seemed erratic. My grandmother & I knew, but to a far lesser degree. If Randi Cae the Schnauzer could have talked, she would have told us he was dying.

It wasn’t until I saw S Tweet to E, “Did you call Mom for her birthday?” that I realized the date. It a terrible thing to have an immediate family birthday and a immediate family death on the same day. Every reminder is a curse.

It’s not easier with time. In fact, the distractions I had today made it worse. I feel worse for not remembering (either of) the events.

Dear Daddy, I still miss you every damn day. I still wish you were among us. It’s not fair to this world that you are not. Neither I nor any god can satisfactorily explain your sudden departure from our world.

  • Did you leave me so I’d not have the kids I didn’t really want? For sure, your part of their life would have been a big pro on that list. But, I don’t think it would have out-weighed all the cons. There are so very many.
  • Did you leave so Mom could end up with LT? Seeing as how he beat her, broke her house, and repeatedly continues to emotionally abuse her, I don’t think that is sound or logical.
  • Did you leave Mom so she could be there for LT? If so, why is he mean to her?
  • Did you leave your golf buddies for being the bigots they are? If so, you could have just moved to place with less bigots. It’s clear that Paris, Texas is a shit hole, but you don’t have to live in that shit hole.

….See? It’s not easier with time. The best you can hope for is to remember early in the day so you don’t feel guilty for forgetting until late in the day.

Fuck you, “god” and “universe”. You don’t deserve my love or adoration or attention. You took Daddy at half his life.

Happy Birthday, Mom L. (She can’t see/read this, but I wish it to her all the same.)

[1] It’s possible that recent bigotry (from Chad) had me distracted.

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