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i
am making myself write on sundays and saturdays. i am typing words onto a google document for at least fifteen minutes. any words at all. sometimes i just come to type and i can’t seem to put anything on here that feels remotely interesting or appropriate. i will word vomit and i read it and…
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i
had a birthday. it was a month ago and this post is late but nevertheless here it goes. my birthday was hard. this is going to sound dramatic which is something i feel i have been lately but it was the hardest birthday i have ever had. i missed my dad so much and i…
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father’s
day was a week ago. i spoke to my mother and my brother and i said “happy father’s day” to my brother and to my dad, whose ashes are still at my mom’s and then i said “happy father’s day” to all my nephews who have babies of their own. i did take a little…
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since
my dad died i seriously have no idea what to write. and it’s funny because for a writer you would think this is where i would be writing poem after poem. i wrote several poems before and now it’s as if i have nothing in one piece. all of my writings have been fragments, sentences,…
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when
it happened and i typed my father died those first few times it was odd. i have said this sentence aloud a large number of times by this point. each time accompanied with this shocking and jarring feeling with it. i have written it out in various text messages notifying friends and family, one of…
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on
monday, march 25 i drove to my parent’s house. i was at work when the hospice nurse called. she said “we’ve made a decline. he’s started requiring oxygen. i let your mom know but i also wanted to let you know that i think it’s time.” my cousin was at home with my mom at…
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it
is two fifty-three in the afternoon on a tuesday. my new work schedule has consisted of five am starts through one pm and i love it. i’m a pre-op nurse now and let me tell you, the work is chef’s kiss easy peasy bliss honestly. and i don’t think i have ever, like EVER not…
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holy
shit. it’s february. thus far we have spent three out of four weeks of january in the hospital and here we remain in the hospital on february fourth. we came across stroke number seven on january 23rd. SEVEN. my head is SWIRLING. my mother is unwell. my father is very unwell. he’s been bedridden for…
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the
past week we have been in a hospital again. my father lays in a hospital bed with his new stroke. number six we call it. the last one, number three, broke off into two pieces creating number four and five and here we are with number six. i haven’t shared anything yet and this i’m…
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soliloquies in written form 