Monday, January 15, 2007
So my father had a heart attack yesterday. It happened in the morning, but I only found out late in the afternoon, through my cousin Whammy. He thought that I already knew about it and asked me if I was worried that my father was in the hospital, and I just stared back at him in complete confusion.
I was worried. I'll give the man that. I have to admit, however, now that a whole day has passed since the event, that it was that generic brand of worry that all people feel when they hear that someone, anyone, had a heart attack. That eensy-weensy little twitch harboring sincere shock and concern. Other than that, I mostly felt perturbed. I wasn't exactly sure how to feel, considering that this is the person half-responsible for my existence and wholly responsible for that layer of rage spread thick or thin beneath most everything I've done in my life so far. He is the reason why I grind my teeth at night. I hate him and I owe him.
I heard he's better now. Nevertheless, the event did push me to really mull over certain things. I realized that if ever it does get worse, I probably will show up if need be, after roughly a decade. It's not like everyone at a funeral wants the stiff up front breathing again anyway.
posted by marguerite @ 3:23 PM
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