Thursday, June 30, 2011
Its funny the secrets that a family keeps from the world, from each other, from ourselves. No one ever mentions the word "alcoholic" at least not with their lips. They might scream it with their eyes, or with his smell, but he is still the one who took care of us, who provided. Even now, when he refuses to take his pills and the cancers left him peeing in a bag, he's still the greatest man I've ever known, the only one I've ever loved. Even now, I hang on his every slurred word, as if they were the last words of a dying God. Eloi, Eloi, lamma sabacthani?