Black and White

Black and White, originally uploaded by daradactyl.

It's been six months. Oddly, I seem to be experiencing the loss more half a year later. Perhaps it's taken this long to get past the details one has to be immersed in when dealing with an estate and a house and a funeral, and so forth.

I reread the brain autopsy report. It's moving. In the sense that it is a summation of not only what killed my father, but also it's a description of the shell he left behind.

"Decendent is a n 85 year old male identified by left ankle tag...."

It was amazingly difficult to donate a brain. We wanted it studied - for cancer research. But funding has been cut and most places didn't have anywhere to put new brains. "Can you wait 6 months?" They said they might have room later. Although I didn't know at that point how imminent his death was, I knew it wasn't six months away.

This is six months away. February 18th.

"The skin is remarkable for...a linear crusted abrasion on the left knee..." He fell about a week before his death. He couldn't transfer from the wheelchair to the bed even. And he fell. And so those wounds on his knees never healed. They were suspended in time.

I keep hearing his words, as clear as water: "I've seen everything I want to see and done everything I want to do. So, I'm ready, I guess."