Another Christmas X

I called my father. I knew he would be at home alone feeling sorry for himself. I can't really blame him, sometimes depression feels like the only friend you have...especially when it is the one constant in your life. My sister didn't bother to go over and see him; she's likely tired of being turned down every time she offers anything. My cousins would have all called to invite him but I know my father, he would have said yes a month ago and just as easily blanked them today without so much as a second thought.

We caught up briefly, I checked in on his health and doctor notes and then told him about the kids and Dan and anything new. He always asks about my mother, I give him the condensed version and move past it. I wish he wanted more of his life, more than just sitting in a basement smoking cigarettes and drinking Diet Pepsi all day. He's dying, he knows it and I know...we all know it. Everything he has is in his apartment  and it's difficult to view that as anything but sad...he did so much in his life just to end up with nothing...I hope he lived.

I caught a tear trying to escape, I try not to cry for him anymore. He asked if I would come and visit, I agreed. Maybe next month when I'm in NY I could take the train up or a quick flight. I told him I loved him and hung up, I miss my father...the one who never gave up...