Monday, June 1, 2015

Something sad...

This morning, while we were driving to school, I noticed something very sad.   Allow me to elaborate.

This morning while I sat in the front seat with my dad sitting on the driver's side I noticed something that (metaphorically speaking of course) punched me in the gut, and pulled the air out of my lungs.  Let me explain why.
A few days ago, I noticed that I could see my dad's ribcage.  How horrifying is that?  Yesterday, when my mom picked me up from school, she mentioned/asked if I noticed my dad's significant weight loss.  She said that his thighs were becoming skinny sticks and his arms, that once proudly bared strong muscles (he used to do woodwork) are now flabby flesh.  Or a better explanation would is: he is now skin and bones...Let me explain why he lost weight...

Well, you see...ever since the beginning of (my) time, my parents have fought.  They fought about big things, mediocre things, and even minuscule things.  Bottom line: they fought about almost everything.  Let's just say that they have had a long history of heated arguments.  So the last time my dad walked out on us, I didn't think much of it.  I'm jaded, I guess you could say.  It's been happening for years.  The same pattern repeats over and over again: happy couple, misunderstanding, someone overreacts, fight, dad walks, days later, he comes back bearing coffee and flowers, they make nice, and the happy couple pattern begins anew.  Occasionally the police comes, but that's besides the point.  The point is that it's a pattern, and I'm used to it. 

Maybe I am just now becoming more observant, or maybe this time something happened that hasn't happened before.  Ether way, this time, my dad comes back home, looking like he just dragged himself back from Tartarus.

Aaaanyways, where was I going with this?

Ah, yes.  Something sad. 

OK, so I'm sad that my dad has left and came back with evidence, based on his body, that he has been living really unhealthily.  And his health and wellbeing has paid the price.

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