Awww.
So I finisehed work at 3am. I sat on to have a drink. I am now plastered. I am pretty much a good guy. I miss my Father so much. I have a heavy heart. I wish that I had the intelligence that he had.
I sat with him, when he was really sick, about 3 days before he passed. The noise of the oxgyen tank was the only sound other than the rasps of his heavy lungs. He tried to talk to me, but his voice was so faint that I couldn't make out what he said. It's so hard to describe becasue he was always so quietly spoken but so defininte. I swore he told me to stop drinking (somthing that he always had been wary of). I broke into tears when he said that. I swore that I would uphold that rule when he whispered what he did. I had to call my Mother to the scene because he was so uncomfortable. She of couse talked to him in a language of eyes and tender gestures and found out that he tried to take a drink from his glass and spilled it over himself. So I fell into a heap outside the door and didn't know what to do with myself. My mother being the leigion of strengh she was picked me up and instantly straghtened me out and got me to get her a straw to give my Father a drink.
I came into my home tonight in a state of hyperactive drunkeness looking for the next drink. On my way to the cupboard with the drinks, I literally caught a glance of my father picture from his mass card. I came up to think about what he might have said if he had a voice to make the last requests of his family. This is where you find me.
I really needed to get that off my chest.
I always thought of my father as an imortal being. He always broke though everything and proved a point in the most understated way possible. Its strange that in his death he has become even more imortal in my thoughts than I ever had imagined.
Joeseph Coleman Montgomery, I raise my glass of water to you!
Oisin.
So I finisehed work at 3am. I sat on to have a drink. I am now plastered. I am pretty much a good guy. I miss my Father so much. I have a heavy heart. I wish that I had the intelligence that he had.
I sat with him, when he was really sick, about 3 days before he passed. The noise of the oxgyen tank was the only sound other than the rasps of his heavy lungs. He tried to talk to me, but his voice was so faint that I couldn't make out what he said. It's so hard to describe becasue he was always so quietly spoken but so defininte. I swore he told me to stop drinking (somthing that he always had been wary of). I broke into tears when he said that. I swore that I would uphold that rule when he whispered what he did. I had to call my Mother to the scene because he was so uncomfortable. She of couse talked to him in a language of eyes and tender gestures and found out that he tried to take a drink from his glass and spilled it over himself. So I fell into a heap outside the door and didn't know what to do with myself. My mother being the leigion of strengh she was picked me up and instantly straghtened me out and got me to get her a straw to give my Father a drink.
I came into my home tonight in a state of hyperactive drunkeness looking for the next drink. On my way to the cupboard with the drinks, I literally caught a glance of my father picture from his mass card. I came up to think about what he might have said if he had a voice to make the last requests of his family. This is where you find me.
I really needed to get that off my chest.
I always thought of my father as an imortal being. He always broke though everything and proved a point in the most understated way possible. Its strange that in his death he has become even more imortal in my thoughts than I ever had imagined.
Joeseph Coleman Montgomery, I raise my glass of water to you!
Oisin.
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*hugs*