I got the telephone call at approximately 8:15PM.

My father had passed away.

I had just seen him earlier in the day, in his assisted living residence, on hospice care. He had a full time care aide with him, and his facility had their folks coming in to see him frequently - more frequently than they were obliged to, he was (as I was told by more than one of them) popular with the staff.

I had left him around noon. My brother had brought his wife and youngest son over to say goodbye the day before. His partner had been with him from seven PM to around 7:45; it's pretty clear he had been waiting to see her before letting go. He hadn't been able to communicate well, due to pneumonia complications and general debilitation, but his eyes when he looked at us were clear and his hand squeezes strong in response to questions or affection.

The last great gift my father gave me was the decision. I have been looking after him and his affairs for a few years, and his doctors had

I've been having a lot of nightmares lately. Not just the waking nightmare of watching the conspiracy theorists slowing taking over the public political discourse, but actual nightmare dreams. The worst involved me rescuing Tessie, who'd been kidnapped and taken to New York City's Chinatown with a ridiculous and scary Big Trouble in Little China plot. Other events included me being sexually assaulted and having to to kill one of my torturers (a scene reminiscent of

She calls me Girl. I call her Mother. I’m talking to you girl. Girl are you listening. What goes on in that head of yours girl. I do not even smile when she says these things. She does not want to know what goes on my head. And I cannot tell her, you are my mother only on paper. Only in name. As Father is only my father on paper.

I am not their child. I am no one’s child. Jim is the only real family I have. We grew up together, and he knows all my thoughts