I spoke to my dad by phone the other day. “Hi Natalie!” was the only coherent thing he said, but he was so happy! He kept telling me there was something funny about my name, and laughing in this delighted manner. My best guess: he saw my name come up
Mom says he’s sleeping eighteen hours a day lately. Also, for a while he had to physically clutch on to her in order to understand she was there. But he’s not doing that anymore.
The supernatural is seeping in. Which realistically, is probably more related to life stress causing my perceptions to go wonky than a reflection of actual events in the known world. I don’t mind it once in a while, if I’m honest. Ah, refreshing break from the mundane! The first weirdness
When I saw my father this last time, something had changed inside me. Previously, while I had savaged my mother’s martyrdom in my head, all my self-inflicted arguments would end with whether I could sit across from my father and say, “You have to go to a home.” And that
1. Maybe a year ago, I walked in on my husband vacuuming our stone kitchen floor. This wasn’t as shocking as, say, catching him vacuuming the floor wearing nothing but my cherry patterned kitchen apron, butt cheeks waggling. But somehow, in my puritanical Brooms R 4 Sweeps! mindset, it did