Lost in the Crowd

My father’s illness, a merry-go-round that doesn't stop, gives me a forbidden comfort I can't define.  Although my brothers and sisters seemed like strangers before this watch, we are unified now.  All else in life pales as we nine watch another step in my father's final surrender.

Late evening snow outside the hospital window contributes to yet another somber visit to my father’s sick bed.  I would have liked to smoke a joint, but I didn’t have any.  Although I feel like the alien in the family, there is a sense of comfort being around all eight of my siblings.  The hospital room offers solace of a kind I never knew before.  In some sick way, I enjoy the merry-go-round ride.  My mother’s absence from a duty she would have considered commonplace, however, casts an eeriness on the gathering. I am reminded of Kahlil Gibran's words, “For what is it to die but to stand naked in the wind and to melt into the sun.”  

The Mulhalls, all present and accounted for, drape themselves around their patriarch and ‘drink from the river of silence’.

My father lies on his death bed reduced to the countable breaths of a man lost in a coma.  A lion with no teeth.   So many nights have been spent watching this that the whole scene becomes rather normal.  My loyal brothers and sisters take their turns by his bed until early in the morning when concern over the snow becomes great.  I feel so peaceful there, I decide to stay.