Wednesday, September 17, 2008

Red Eye: Red Eyes

My flight from Atlanta was on time. My uncle was too sleep-deprived to pick me up from the airport. My mother told me just to take a cab the 30 miles from the airport. "Um, how much is that going to cost?" "Just get in the cab, Karen."

I was tearing up, so either I didn't have a chatty driver or he knew better than to ask.

My father was still breathing when I got to the house.

His breathing suddenly slowed, then stopped, several hours later. It was as quiet as one could hope for.

The previous weekend I had promised him that I would see him again. His final gift to me was to let me keep my promise.

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