For want of an accessorie...

Strange thing to call this, I know. But it's easier than the truth.

My father would put on hospice care yesterday. This means he was taken off his meds and put on morphine to help with the pain, to keep him comfortable, so he can die.

I don't quite know what to say. Obviously, perhaps, things are pretty shaky emotionally. (Don't you hate how I use qualifiers? I'm sad as fuck.)

And the only thing I can think of is, "Where am I going to get a black arm band? When he does, where do I get a black arm band? I don't even know what they're called!"

I'm outside of this thing. My father and I weren't exactly close. I'm watching it unfold but taking no part - an outsider... as usual.

There's a lot I'd like to say right now, about death and about life, but huge paragraphs come out as short lines and I can't bring myself to say more. This isn't a process where you find words easily.