Dad's condition has taken a dramatic turn for the worse. This hospital stay will be his last. It could be hours, it could be days, but the hope of another week is out of the question.
Last night Christopher inquired about my mental state. My ability to answer was replaced by a vacant stare. Like a large vat of discarded contents, digging through the muck is the only way to see what really sits inside. It might be best left undisturbed.




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