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Time to Let Go, Finally

A little while ago, I wrote about daddykins. And hoo-boy, I meant every word of it. But, being the generous, stupid fool that I am, I had lunch with the evil, disgusting, unwashed moron and his sister. What a rotten, yet somehow enlightening, experience.

"The bastard choose to leave. The bastard choose to leave." It was all I could think of as I was driving to the mall. I offered to buy the old fart a beer, but he's on cancer medication and can't drink alcohol. Score one for the good guys! I kept forgetting things on the way there, and had to come back to the house. Oops, gotta brush my teeth. Oops, forgot my wallet. Oops... Finally I realized I was just putting it off, which pissed me off.

So I got to the food court at the mall and sat down. Dear God, the man stunk to high heaven. The first thing I noticed was the stench. It sucked away my will to eat and turned my healthy appetite against me. I kept wondering if he had been rolling around in dog poo. Wouldn't be surprised really.

(Don't tell Ashley, but I really like Buffy. She's on TV as I write this.)

So we sat. And they ate like pigs. I tried not to think about food, especially the lettuce hanging from his beard that he didn't notice. Disgusting. And we talked. And I tried not to noticed his mis-shapen head or non-opening eye.

Life (and the cancer growing in his bones) has not been kind. Perhaps the universe has a deeply twisted sense of justice, or maybe karma finally bit him in the ass. Either way, he's had a miserable few years that he doesn't really remember anymore. He tried to explain that his tumor has become a "multinoma" which means that it has spread and is nearly unstoppable. The one growing in his skull next to his right eye has caused memory loss and likely a host of other problems. His face is misshapen, jaws protruding forward, nose and forehead shrinking back. He can't walk without a cane. He needs people to take care of him, and probably change his diaper (the stench, remember!)

And then I left. All the hate and anger I felt for him have been slipping away, yet I don't feel any pity for him. There is no remorse, or condolence. I just don't care anymore. He's obviously suffering and in pain. I just don't care.

It left me with a very empty feeling.

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This page contains a single entry from the blog posted on August 27, 2003 5:02 AM.

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