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I appreciate that.
Maybe I haven’t always been the nicest guy or the best guy, but at least you know no matter what, I was me.
The entire damn time.
“Hey, Mike,” I say as I blink a few extra times to clear my eyes. “How’s the business running?”
Mike glances at me. “Really? Trying to distract yourself that much?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, that won’t do you any good. Go in there, Mac. It’s time.”
My hands ball up into fists and I turn and open the hospital room door.
There’s something about the room… the smell of it. It smells weird. It almost smells cold. There’s a lingering feeling of… you know what.
My father is in the hospital bed.
His eyes are closed.
There are only a few machines hooked up to him now.
I guess the end game here is to keep him comfortable and sedated as much as possible.
He’s a shell of the man I knew.
The man who toughened me up.
The man who…
I shake my head.
No. I’m not doing this. Not like this.
There’s no justifying anything that’s happened between me and him.
And it doesn’t even matter at this point.
This is where we are right now.
This is reality.
This is life.
I step up to the hospital bed.
Nurses have told me to hold his hand. Touch his arm. Talk to him.
Just act as though he were wide awake.
The thing is… I say fuck that to pretending a thing.
I’m staring at the last of my father.
What remains from the cancer that he stubbornly fought for such a long time.
This horrible empty feeling should have happened a long time ago.
