These are the thoughts of a Texas transplant in West Michigan who makes his living as a newspaper reporter by evening, and a struggling novelist by day.

Monday, January 16, 2006

a phone call

it's pretty early for me right now. i normally dont' get up this early and certainly not to write. but the furnace went out. it was shooting out cold air. and now it's in themid-50s in here. so, needless to say, it's damned cold in the house. and ironically, the furnace is being inspected this morning.

anyway, my mom called last night. she'd already called earlier in the evening. she called, i guess, for several reasons. my dad wasn't doing too good emotionally yesterday. he kept thinking of his brothers -- the one who died in october and the one's who's suffering from a stroke. he didn't attend funeral services for my uncle and i guess he's had delayed moourning over that, since my dad's had to deal with his own stuff. and he's not been able to visit my other uncle for months, and it seems he's deteriorated.

my mom wanted to see if i could talk with him. i guess listenor just ramble on and try to get his mind off of things. but when she tried passing him the phone, he declined. he didn't want to talk. i guess i don't blame him. if he needed to mourn, he needed to m ourn.

so my mom said he'd been crying. that really gets to me. you see, growing up, my dad expressed little emotion, certainly not sadness (or tears). so i could see my mom crying and it doesn't have the effect it does when my dad cries.

he doesnt' feel much like going out, which i don't like. i know he's tired with the chemo, but i wish he'd make an effort to go out for a little while to nearby places. he's also lost interest in watching tv (and they've got the dish). he just doesn't have the interaction that he needs. plus, i think the chemo depresses him. my aunt, who went through it early last year, said that wht it does to you. makes you really emotional.


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