Nov 24

The Family Strong-Man

I just spoke to my father for what will probably be the last time. My Father


He didn’t answer; there was just the sound of the respirator. Or something.


My mother held the phone to his ear and I held my phone to mine. I didn’t realize at first that he couldn’t talk back.



When my father was born, talking to a dying relative from 10,000+ miles away would have been an impossibility. Now it’s so simple.




But that didn’t make it any easier.




My family keeps vigil over him in a Toronto hospital. I drink hot cocoa and have three empty cookie wrappers on my desk. I will soon go to sleep.


Will they wake me when he dies? I don’t sleep yet. I don’t cry. I don’t do the heavy-lifting of being there.


But I am now the family strong-man.

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