My Father XII

I woke early, or maybe I never really fell asleep. I had everything packed and I was chomping at the bit to get back on the highway and make my way home. I walked into the hallway and noticed my brother packing his things too; I instantly felt relief that he is Type A and keeps a very strict schedule. If I could take my father with me then I would but his health has become so bad that he can barely leave his home without incident. We were going to go by his place one last time to bring him breakfast and could be on the road by 10am...I let out an over exaggerated sigh and leaned my head against the door waiting for everyone to be dressed and in the car.

He cried...loudly, openly, sobbing and sniffling. I love my father and my heart aches for him. No one deserves this kind of suffering, holding on by the tread of life and likely stubbornness hoping for more and knowing deep down there is nothing really left. Every time I kiss him good bye I wonder if it's the last...and to be honest, I'm never sure what to hope for...