Sunday, July 12, 2015

There's a myriad of ways to get you through

I'm in Kentucky. Have been all weekend. I'm writing this on Thursday. Just after having written Friday and Saturday's Dribble.

Do you feel duped? Sorry about that. I could have not written at all and the seven of you would have bitched and moaned. So, you're welcome.

One of my dad's childhood friends gave this to me at dad's funeral. Apparently, dad talked about my obsession.

I like spending time with my in-laws. They're a little right wing-y for my taste, but they're good people who raised an amazing daughter. They can burn crosses for all I care.

I hate that my dad never got to meet TGB.

I've lamented that before, I know, but this is my blog and if I want to revisit a subject I can.

He would have adored her. He likely would have told her that should we ever end he was keeping her. At our worst of times I have tried to listen to what he would have said. I never wanted anyone around when she was sick, except for him. He would have known to just be there, not say a word, not offer stupid fucking words to fill the void. He would have doted on her and just been there for me to lean on. He would have knocked me upside the head when I felt sorry for myself. I would have been better at it all had he been there.

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