Welcome back!
I wonder how it is, working at a tattoo shop... congrats and best wishes for your debut!

Dear Meg
I read your last myspace journal entry the when I realized subscribing to myspace was mandatory for commenting I felt somehow reticent... (call me silly!)
... an I thought of answering to you here on SG...
I whanted to write how much I felt for you, how I thought you were right posting about this.

It’s been a year now. This morning, I fell asleep a couple minutes.
Just long enough for having a dream. In the dream my father was lying on a medical bed. He asked me to help him change position. For helping him I took him in my arms. I was amazed by how light he seemed. He weighted almost nothing. As soon as he found the right position he seemed to fall asleep. My arm stayed jammed between his and the metallic barriers along side the bed. I was unable to free it. My father’s arm weighted a ton. I started calling his name, first in a subdued voice, embarrassed to have to wake him so soon after he’d fall asleep, wanting him to lift his arm just for a second, calculating that if I called him softly enough maybe he would do it half-asleep and continue sleeping right after.. I called him again, low, then touder and louder. That’s how I woke up, calling aloud my father’s name.

Nothing of this all happened in real life. My father never needed a medical bed at home. The evening he died, he sat in his armchair, I was sitting in the same room as i noticed he seemed to have difficulties staying upright.

When I saw that my father was losing consciousness, i had the “right”, the “modern” reflex to grab the phone A cord phone: I had to step away for making the emergency call. I stayed away keeping the phone im my hand until they announced a medical unit was on its way and would be there in minutes. I watched my father closing his eyes and bowing down. As soon as I got what had just happened, I felt overwhelmed by guilt for having had this stupid “efficient” reaction, instead of having the archaic reflex of embracing him and holding him tight, the tighter I could, and calling his name. Now I think THAT was the right thing to do.

A year later, I’m still ridden with guilt and regret. Regret of all I wanted to say to him and I didn’t say, guilt for all I could have done and didn’t do, and what I regret most is this. Not having put my arms around him the instant he passed away.

You see, guilt is a strange thing.

that first grave stone is beautiful.

So how old was Anna?

Tattoo shop that does sound awesome! I hope things with you are going really well, things are good with me.
I do agree that the dead are much easier to work with.

LOVE the first photo!

Happy Halloween stranger .

wow the place.
Happy week!

Hi Mego!

It's been long since you posted last... how's life treating you? (I think It's awfully late for birthday wishes... hope you had a good one!)