Talk Without Speaking

“There must be some way out of here,” said the joker to the thief,
“There’s too much confusion, I can’t get no relief.

Day shift flew by in a blink and have now switched back to the Dark Side. Don’t worry, I sense that there is still good in me, it’s just that it’s two weeks away.

Sat down this weekend to write Drew, my Dad’s best friend from Glasgow, an email. He’s been on my mind a ton lately and I guess it’s because he’s a link to my Dad’s past and to all the questions that I can’t help but wonder about. I sent him a few pics of my Dad from the past few years that I thought that he would like, painful as they will likely be for him. And painful they were for me too, although I have looked at them many times before. The tears literally streamed down my face and blurred my eyes as I wrote that email to him.

Later, with the savage unpredictability that I have come to predict, I get attacked by this wave of grief which flips into anxiety and then into a full blown hyperventilating nightmare of gasping for air that I have never, ever encountered in myself. My brain was screaming and here I am more than 36 hours later still trying to soothe the headache bruise that it left in its wake.

I don’t know. The memories are painful to remember and I know that I don’t want to forget. Not that I think I’m there yet but I’m already aware that the final slap in the face and knife in the heart is in being ok again.

Show me what it’s like
To be the last one standing
And teach me wrong from right
And I’ll show you what I can be
- Savin’ Me - Nickelback