Nothing serious
\nshe said
\nbut I flew anyway
\nto find him in a hospital
\nbed, of course he was mad
\nI wasted the time,
\nsaid he\u2019d be fine in a day or so.<\/p>\n
He was lucid,
\ntalked Cowboys and Diamondbacks–
\nhis two teams,
\nthe food, my sons, the nurses,
\nhis Elks Lodge cronies
\nwaiting for him
\nto get back in drinking form.<\/p>\n
And then, in between bites In the morning In two days he\u2019d gone yellow, He faded into the night The doctor came in, examined us,
\nof brown pudding,
\nhe nodded toward an empty chair,
\nasked if he<\/em> was hungry.
\nI froze. Dad asked again.
\nI stammered
\n\u201cHe just ate\u201d and that sufficed.<\/p>\n
\nI flew home to photograph
\na factory and thought
\nhow odd that from him begat me,
\nmuch the same, wildly different.
\nThis time she called
\nit was serious.<\/p>\n
\npissed his Diamondbacks lost,
\nnot worried his kidneys were gone.
\n\u201cDoes he want some coffee?\u201d
\nI stared at the chair.
\nHow long\u2019s he been there?
\n\u201cSince I got here.\u201d<\/p>\n
\nshift, hanging on
\nsmall painful breaths.
\nWe watched football, him in a chemical sleep, me
\nholding his melting hand, as if to keep him
\nfrom going
\nsomeplace he shouldn\u2019t.<\/p>\n
\nreminded me the dying
\ndon\u2019t always know when to leave.
\nMinutes after midnight I whispered
\n\u201cDad, its time to go with the man in the chair.\u201d
\nI kissed him and they left
\nmy 49th birthday.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"