day.one.hundred.fifty.one

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my dad is dying. i hate that sentence. i hate that i am actually mouthing these words to people who ask how he is doing. my dad is dying.  mom wrote today to say they think it won’t be long now. here is am, an icy 600 miles away from them and am bawling like a baby. a baby girl who wants her daddy. my dad is dying.  soon we will be eternities apart.  this is it.  what i have been screaming and begging for not to happen.

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