Jun–2023
I call him today and his back is in pain, his voice is wispy. He has to step away from the phone every few minutes to swear out his pain. He tells stories from when I was in high school, and also of dinner with dad a week earlier. I understand, the best I can, the passage we are now walking together. With him until the end. At some point he will have to go where I can’t yet follow. Spring is blooming, soft, trembling heat, & together we are reading this final chapter, impossible to anticipate. Pentax UC-1