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THIS IS DUNCAN
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December 24, 2005

My Dad Died

My dad died twenty-three years ago; and I just realized. Heís not going to suddenly appear; make a visit — heís dead! My step-dad told me; then I went to my room; then I didnít think about it any more. They put him in a box; I saw it; I think he was inside; and they burned it up. "Is there anything I can do?" someone asked; "No." I responded in confusion; with hindsight: "hug me." Whatís an eight-year-old to do when he sees that box? A dozen memories are all I have: I checked. This is grief; the time to cry is now.

"I still miss Colin and think of him often. He was my big brother; we shared the same day for a birthday and he always remembered and called me. He treated me with respect, and hilarity. He included me when he was taking your Mom out: to the movies, to dinner. I loved him too." — Annie

 

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