On Hold

I wonder when this will feel real. I wonder when I will stop replaying the first months when you were in pain and didn't know why, then the diagnosis, the hospital stays, and finally Seattle over and over in my head just to convince myself that this really happened.

How did this happen?

How did you go from laughing and alive to buried and gone? It seems like one minute you were here, and the next gone... Or more and more... Like you were just a dream. Because this can't have happened. I can't have had you for my dad and lost you. You can't be gone. I can't watch my kids grow up without you. I can't.

I can't.

So this can't be real. This can't have happened. How can this have happened?

It can't be real, that I call your house and I hear your voice, but it's only the answering machine, and I find myself hitting redial, hoping for I don't know what. I have to tell you how Ben and Sam are driving me crazy this winter because they've discovered wrestling. Naked wrestling. I have to watch you laugh at Hannah's silly little wiggle crawl that she does. I have to hear you say, "Hello BenjOmin!" Dad. I have to.

How did this happen?

I feel like I'm waiting for something, but I don't know what.

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