Ventured upstairs to my bedroom sanctuary and contemplated the many variables. My first thoughts surrounded my precious daughter and all I may now miss. As well as the burden of assumed expectations of fulfillment in all I never saw through or accomplished. That’s a big one. Reconciling mortality is the obvious part of the process in facing the Big C. Sifting through the heft and years of back burner complacencies is too, a motherfucker!

She alone knew of my unrequited dreams as I selfishly shared throughout her brief adult life, me secretly imagining my premature exit. Selfishly hoping she could pick up the baton that I unceremoniously passed. Selfish and lazy. The pity party set to continue into the afterlife. She … left with a terrible burden.  In many ways my old man wished similar. But he was not selfish or lazy. He was fully content to encourage, sit back, and admire. Truly! Until he didn’t. And peacefully made his own farewell. Too quickly. Too anxiously.

My turn now to make peace with all that was. And that which may not.