6/21/2012

Dear Papa,

I watched you bike to your bone marrow test today. Mama didn't want you to bike: she's worried about you.
But I like that you are biking and
going alone;
It's like you're just running errands,
going to the grocery or the bank.
Normal, routine, every day things instead of isolated incidents,
So that it's just a part of your life and not the precursor to your death.
It doesn't make a difference, really. But it makes it easier to pretend.
and we need to pretend;
game faces as we fight the ordinary battles.
I can't cure you, clean you, kill your disease,
so I wash dishes and do laundry and go for long runs.
I am not a perfect daughter. I'm not even sure I'm a good daughter.
I want to be though, I want to be everything you want me to be.
but lately, seeing you and being here has upset me,
so I've been out,
and when I'm in, I sleep.
and sleep.
and dream.
My dreams, even my nightmares, are better than my reality
because I never dream you sick.

I am afraid to leave you in the fall.
I want to stay here and hover, and have late night conversations in the kitchen
that wake Mama upstairs.
Because at the end of each, I am afraid they are numbered.

I won't stay though;
the daughter you want wouldn't.

Love,
yr daughter