My father is still in the VA hospital. I spoke with his wife, last night. He's not doing very well. The doctor told her my father might live for another six months--they aren't sure. That was in my head all night--and all day, today. She gave me the phone number and extension for his room. I am trying to summon the courage to call him. It's incredibly painful to have a conversation with someone who is only half-there. And I will try to summon the courage to drive out to the VA hospital later next week.
R. called me, this evening. I surprised myself. When she asked about my father, I lost my speech for a while and tried to fight back the rising water level in my eyes. Then, after we changed the subject, I was back to my old self, making dumb jokes and laughing like nothing was ever wrong. I needed to laugh a little. She is such a sweetheart. I wish I had more of her in my life.
I already hate this year. Fuck 2012. Fuck 2012.