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Life of the Bored and Taskless.

Sunday, July 03, 2005

I miss my childhood with him.
I miss learning to read and saying "pause" whenever I got to a period, because he told me to pause.
I miss the wedgies that he gave me before ballet so my leotard would fit correctly.
I miss how he tried to do my hair and failed miserably, so much that the doctor fixed it one time.
I miss him telling me that he has no hair because I pulled all of it out.
I miss the bets I used to make with him, and how he jokingly asked for money if he won.
I miss winning against him at Checkers because he let me.
I miss repeating state capitals to him after having learning them.
I miss lobster ice cream, and lobsters, and ice cream for lunch.
I miss the epic summer vacations.
I miss my aunt calling him "rude, crude, and obnoxious" and me laughing from the backseat on vacation.
I miss being Jackson.
I miss being "babe."
I miss hearing "Time to wake up, Miss Baker" in the morning and cringing at the click of the lamp.
I miss him being the one getting me out of bed.
I miss me being the inactive one.
I miss him asking me what I was doing at school with genuine curiosity.
I miss his overprotection.
I miss our pointless heated arguments.
I miss him calling me selfish and me feeling guilty about it.
I miss him saying nasty things about Botulism and about how stupid my parents act and agreeing with him.
I miss his Republican remarks targeted at people on television, even though they didn't hear him and I disagreed with him.
I miss going to a Catholic church with him and being bored by the robotic priest.
I miss not having to pretend I'm Catholic when the priest comes to his house to bless him because he can't go to church anymore.
I miss not having to look at the ground while walking to make sure I don't step on the oxygen tubes.
I miss a machine-less house.
I miss watching Jeopardy with him, and him telling me how smart I am.
I miss him saying how beautiful I am.
I miss not crying because of him.
I miss people not asking about how he’s doing with the tone and face of sympathy.
I miss thinking that nobody I know will ever die.
I miss not having to worry about if I have a black outfit.
I miss not having to worry about the future without him.
I miss not having to worry about him.
I miss having a real father.
I miss him.


1:50 PM | Jacquie | 0 comments links to this post

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