Sunday, February 14, 2010

(Or why you are?)

 I hate what I've become, he said.

(you've always been that). 

I didn't like to see him cry. Not because I didn't want him to be sad, but because he looked ridiculous doing it.

I am thinking about going to an Ashram. In India. I need to connect. Or, I need to find myself. I've never known who I am.

(Or why you are?)

Women always leave me, he said in between bites of cold chicken noodle soup.

(Daddy, you are not supposed to chew soup, don't you know?)

And you don't like me that much, do you?

Well, you are my father. I think I must love you.

At that he started crying again.
He hasn't left the couch since his suicide attempt. I've been going to Trader Joe's to pick up cans of soup and bars of soup. Because he likes to take baths. I don't really understand.

I always say the wrong things. There are thick green snot slugs peeking out of his nostrils.


I've decided to go to London tomorrow. I haven't told him yet. I'll cook dinner and then I'll inform him of my plans.

14 comments:

  1. another touching story, Kim. i really enjoy reading it. you're very good at writing. the story was very well-written.

    i can relate to your feeling somehow about how my dad sometimes complaints about himself and his life, and how he had became. sometimes i have conflicts with him, too, and even until today, i still have hope that i could love him in my finest way, despite those bad fights we've been.

    thanks for sharing. you're always an inspiration. :)

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  2. Kind of sad really. It's like caring for a baby in a grown up kind of way.

    Much love on Valentines Day,
    Sophia
    http://apoetscircus.blogspot.com/

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  3. i gathered, not to worry. :D

    take care of him, but most importantly, take care of yourself. because you are really quite amazing.

    let me know when you get back. i'll still be here. you can come find me and maybe i can tell you who you are if you haven't found out by then.

    xx x

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  4. i know what it's like to be a parent of a parent. i feel for you. london sounds fun!

    xxx
    t

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  5. "(you've always been that)."

    isn't that always the truth?

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  6. "Well you are my father. I think I must love you." Your blog is like air in my lungs, it's either suffocating me or reviving me but either way it makes me feel alive. You never hold back, I love that. I can always count on feeling something when I come here, thanks for that.

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  7. small stories? and especially, small great stories? :D

    i think i'm following girl ;)

    stuckinadumbdaze.blogspot.com

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  8. wow, really amazing, thoughtful writing! I especially like how you say a lot in so few words. I write too, but my stories always get so long and spin out of control and I end up getting bored of writing! Help!! Anyway, beautiful, cant wait to read more.

    cheers
    renata

    scorpiondisco.blogspot.com --- international fashion

    scorpiondiscotales.blogspot.com --- stories

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  9. if this is true to life, then this is really tragic. nevertheless, beautiful writing

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  10. how is it that you always read my mind??

    you ignore the obvious for the subtleties, which is what i am really trying to say. even if i don't know it.

    crap. i think i just fell in love with your brain a little.

    also i am honored to have made your essential reading list.

    xx x

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  11. wow nice blog, i will follow you:)
    beautiful writing

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  12. Beautifully written.
    I'm sorry you have to be a parent to your father.
    Have fun in London.
    P.S. I think it will break him to know you are going away for some time. You are the only one he has got. :(.

    Stay strong, darling. :)

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  13. I really like your blog, despite the fact it is really sad...

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You Rock. I am certain of it.