It's a Season
First Christmas on my own. I built my tree out of a ceramic cat and wire. The ornaments are gay keychains.
Dad died twenty days ago, and I still haven't cried. Two funerals: one in his hometown, one in mine. I performed improv for his eulogy to make our family smile.
How does the crybaby of the bunch forget how to cry? Cops and soldiers cried. Friends who hadn't seen him since gradeschool cried.
Someone asked and I said I'd already been mourning him for years. Dementia had already taken him. I didn't make him a Christmas present this year.
- Category: True Stories Told As Fiction
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Neville Hunt over 1 year ago
This is very sad, Beck, but I can understand the point that you had been mourning for years as I had a similar experience. I was a crybaby too... still am... regularly.... a film, a book... both can set me off. The Railway Children, a lovely movie, will always set me off as one of the heroines sees her recently released from prison father appear through the steam on the railway children (spoiler alert).
