I guess I wasn’t really actively thinking about it much last year, but the reality is, spooky season will always coincide with my father’s dying days and final demise from now on. That puts a different spin on every memento mori of this time.
It was actually my dad’s birthday on Sunday, but I didn’t know what to think of that. All I can think about is that we never really made much of thing of it while he was alive. So, now what?
Soon, it will be 1 year since, in just less than 1 month. And soon after that, it will be 2, then 3, then 4 followed by 5. And then what?
The truth is I feel I recognize my father better in death than in life. I catch myself in comportments that I can recall in my mind’s eye. I see age pull at my skin in ways that shaped the face I remember as well. I wonder if he ever went through the same silent angsts that I go through; is that why he was so irritable? Was he alone?
Now what?
I’ve been walking past this construction for over a year. Whoever eventually moves in will have no clue that it’s already haunted.
People sometimes wonder why I refuse to watch some shows and movies. It’s really, really good, I swear! It’s artful and there are no jump scares! Well, the truth is that the inside of my skull is already a horror show. Why would I want to watch another?