I couldn’t sleep last night so I ended up writing a whole story from scratch.
It’s been a while since I wrote anything, and I don’t think I’ve ever accomplished a piece in one sitting before.
It’s set last year and basically, the premise is that I get a phone call from my dead father. I’ve always wanted to do a piece that touches on that subject. My father’s death was both a surprise and something that we saw coming, the aftermath of his passing an ordeal and an absurd comedy. I will one day write about the things that transpired on the hours and days after his passing, from the three hour wait for a coffin that his almost 300 lb. frame could fit in, to the nights of his wake, all of them overflowing with friends who loved him and who wanted to party with him one last time.
They say that the pain of losing someone never goes away, and they’re right. It never does. But the best you can do is soldier on, and remember those who passed in little ways. I remember my father through this story, and I hope that those who read it get an idea of what a wonderful man he was, that he may live on in the minds of those who love him, and those who would have loved to get to know him.