Post by Nicole on Jan 16, 2005 9:15:58 GMT -5
January 16, 2004
I had a dream about him dying last night.
Perhaps I wanted it. Perhaps I didn't.
I am not sure. He passed away and I was not upset.
I felt sad that my father passed away. That I was not
there for him in the manner that I was there for my
grandmother. I wondered if I'd done something wrong by
not going to see him right before he died.
All of the plans that I'd made for the funeral previously
had been taken over by aunt Kathy. Like she had something
to do with it. I didn't care this time. My life had been
a whirlpool ride of caring about my father, and him not
returning my affections.
The emotions were no longer there. The hurt was no longer there.
Just as the father I once knew and loved had been long gone.
He had been very long gone. He was no one that I'd known
lately. A finageler, deviant, liar that I no longer knew.
He was a user, and only had one thing in his life. It was an
empty hole. The one that he filled with at any given time, anyone.
I hesitated to cry at his coffin. Though I knew I should. They all
expected me to fall apart. They all expected me to squelch his name.
It didn't happen. I just looked apon my father coffin and told him a
few things. A few things as if he were alive. Just as if he were
looking at the wall again. Looking at someone else. Trying to make
his presence the only presence in the room. Looking at me wondering
what it would have been like if I'd have lived with him. Wondering in his
own mind if he could mentally delude me like he'd deluted himself.
I wondered who created this man. The one who told me about evil, yet
harbored so much evil. Harbored it becausse he was the begining and
end of it. I wondered how it was that I could have empathy for someone
such as himself. I felt ashaimed inside for having no empathy. For showing
no caring words. It still meant nothing. I could not be anything but
his own daughter. I could not treat him like a client. Even though he was
as if I'd had him as my client. The differance was because I'd known him
since he once had a brain. He was evil then, and in some ways is evil now.
He portrays himself as a sweet old man, but inside he knows what he is doing.
So I wonder if he is paying his debt. I wonder if his debt is finally paid as
I kneel apon the floor next to his lifeless body.
I had a dream about him dying last night.
Perhaps I wanted it. Perhaps I didn't.
I am not sure. He passed away and I was not upset.
I felt sad that my father passed away. That I was not
there for him in the manner that I was there for my
grandmother. I wondered if I'd done something wrong by
not going to see him right before he died.
All of the plans that I'd made for the funeral previously
had been taken over by aunt Kathy. Like she had something
to do with it. I didn't care this time. My life had been
a whirlpool ride of caring about my father, and him not
returning my affections.
The emotions were no longer there. The hurt was no longer there.
Just as the father I once knew and loved had been long gone.
He had been very long gone. He was no one that I'd known
lately. A finageler, deviant, liar that I no longer knew.
He was a user, and only had one thing in his life. It was an
empty hole. The one that he filled with at any given time, anyone.
I hesitated to cry at his coffin. Though I knew I should. They all
expected me to fall apart. They all expected me to squelch his name.
It didn't happen. I just looked apon my father coffin and told him a
few things. A few things as if he were alive. Just as if he were
looking at the wall again. Looking at someone else. Trying to make
his presence the only presence in the room. Looking at me wondering
what it would have been like if I'd have lived with him. Wondering in his
own mind if he could mentally delude me like he'd deluted himself.
I wondered who created this man. The one who told me about evil, yet
harbored so much evil. Harbored it becausse he was the begining and
end of it. I wondered how it was that I could have empathy for someone
such as himself. I felt ashaimed inside for having no empathy. For showing
no caring words. It still meant nothing. I could not be anything but
his own daughter. I could not treat him like a client. Even though he was
as if I'd had him as my client. The differance was because I'd known him
since he once had a brain. He was evil then, and in some ways is evil now.
He portrays himself as a sweet old man, but inside he knows what he is doing.
So I wonder if he is paying his debt. I wonder if his debt is finally paid as
I kneel apon the floor next to his lifeless body.