Grief Post

Dear Dad,

Today is one month since your last day alive. How I hate this ever-increasing length. It's a hateful ribbon trailing out behind me, connecting me to fuller days behind and reminding me of the difference between those days and these. The difference, the margin, the subtraction, the lessening. I didn't know how rich I was then.

Today I remember your weary voice asking me for help with your broken cell phone. Today I remember you, harried and wounded by the goddamn C. Diff, telling me how you wanted your life to be better in the future. Today I remember the recliner that held you as you died, and how light it was as I rocked it back and forth as a mean substitute for giving you a long hard hug. I love you, Dad, and I miss you. I hope I see you again.