Yesterday, my dad fell twice. Once was in the front yard, I was in the house, oblivious. Our neighbors helped him inside. His face was covered in blood, he scraped up his face falling down. He swore he wasn't drunk but my mother got the truth out of him later. He weighs upwards of 400 pounds and can barely move of his own volition. This is really the portrait of a man who has given up on himself. The fact that I look like a slightly smaller version of him, this bothers me. That I wasn't really surprised or concerned that he fell again trying to open a bottle of wine later...that bothers me.
I don't know, I don't have much to say. I got car insurance today and moved one of our cars out of the way so dad wouldn't park right over a break in the concrete of our driveway. I am thinking of joining a gym just to get out of the house. But I need more clothes.
No comments:
Post a Comment