We’d been on the outs for a while. I won’t say exactly why. Then, one day, he looked at me in the kitchen and I saw that the entire white of his left eye was blood red, a scalding, sinister red. My heart melted, but I was still too hurt to go beyond everyday conversation with him. A few days later, he ran from his bedroom to the bathroom, hemorrhaging blood from his nose so ferociously that the ceiling and walls were covered. Finally, one night at dinner, I looked over at him and saw that his face was green. Green.
The next day he went into the hospital. He had no interest in getting well. There was no hope for him, anyway. Shortly before he fell into a coma, I told him I loved him, and his answer told me that my remark was too little, too late. He said, “You have good taste.”
In his youth, he had read all of Shakespeare by the time he finished elementary school. He loved opera, and when he lived in New York City, an impoverished student, he would pay half price for standing room to listen to his favorites. He became a naval engineer and ultimately a lawyer who charged on a sliding scale, often taking cases for free.
When his wife left him because she fell in love with a ladies’ man, he walked hunched over, defeated, destroyed.
This was the man I once ran to every day so that I could jump into his arms when he came home from work. This was the man who would have done anything to make me happy. This was my father, and he didn’t deserve what we did to him.
The next day he went into the hospital. He had no interest in getting well. There was no hope for him, anyway. Shortly before he fell into a coma, I told him I loved him, and his answer told me that my remark was too little, too late. He said, “You have good taste.”
In his youth, he had read all of Shakespeare by the time he finished elementary school. He loved opera, and when he lived in New York City, an impoverished student, he would pay half price for standing room to listen to his favorites. He became a naval engineer and ultimately a lawyer who charged on a sliding scale, often taking cases for free.
When his wife left him because she fell in love with a ladies’ man, he walked hunched over, defeated, destroyed.
This was the man I once ran to every day so that I could jump into his arms when he came home from work. This was the man who would have done anything to make me happy. This was my father, and he didn’t deserve what we did to him.