Mood: Spring Fever
Tomorrow will be two weeks without my dad. He died in his bed, 10 feet and floorboards between us when it happened. I never learned anything about being a man. I never asked him, and he never showed me. He told me the best movie ever made was The Quiet Man.
I miss him.
There's a hole and a depth I never wanted. I cried in the basement pacing and pausing in piles of his tools.
I woke up at 3 am and began to shovel our driveway. I watched snowbanks I made color themselves blues and reds when the sun came. Black capped chickadees started singing "swee-tee".
He was covered in foundation at the viewing, I touched his cold head and left with cheap makeup on my fingertips.
It's been a bad year.