dad

tonight i barely missed a call from home. i called back and my dad answered. he sounded tired. he told me he just wanted to call and see how i was. almost as soon as he had said this, he started his usual goodbye spiel, "well, i just wanted to see how you were, that's the only reason i really called." i hadn't talked to him about anything yet, so i was confused. my connection was bad so we both kept cutting out. "hello? hello?" it might have just been my imagination, but his voice sounded helpless and a little panicked. i told him i'd send him an email soon so we could talk more.

my mom texted me later to tell me that when he hung up the phone, he started to cry.

a few mornings ago, sam told me i had been crying out for my dad in my sleep.

i feel like he will be doing fine until one day, he will just be gone. my mom shared with a few of us that one night last week he couldn't get to sleep--he kept waking up, terrified, just this intense fear of going to sleep all through his body. "don't leave me tonight," she told him as she held him and he finally fell asleep.

i have been doing fine, and he has been doing fine. but that deep, cold pain and fear are starting to come back.