My Brother Returned to His Own Family Before My Father Died…

 

My Brother Returned to His Own Family Before My Father Died. Work Was Waiting, His Kids and Wife Were Waiting, And Maybe My Dad Was Waiting. I Could Stick Around, Though, And Wait Him Out. The Day Before His Death, I Took On Raking Their Large Yards. He Was Wheeled Outside For A Smoke Which Would Dangle From His Dry Mouth. He Seemed Appreciative. By Late Afternoon He Had The Nurse Call Me Back Inside. I and Him Were Together, Me Kneeling Next To Him — Sofa-Side. We Made Amends, Embraced, And Held Hands. Early The Next Morning He Died. I Would Have Liked To Have Been There At That Moment — During His Exit. Not Sure If He Preferred I Wasn’t Present, Or If She Preferred To Be Alone With Him, For They Had A Much Richer History Together Than I. I Preferred To Not Know And To Just Believe He Did Want Me There But Passed Without Warning. A Couple More Days I Stayed, Doing What I Could Around The House, Making Small Talk, Looking Off Into the Distance, Being Quiet — TV And Music Were Unbearable. I Must Have Raked Up More Than Twenty Bags Of Leaves., found plywood, xerox transfers, professional student-grade acrylic paint. Size: M. 1989.

My Brother And I Had Gone To Be With Him As He Laid On His Deathbed.

 

3/4 viewpoint pleasure

 

 

My Brother And I Had Gone To Be With Him As He Laid On His Deathbed.

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My Brother And I Had Gone To Be With Him As He Laid On His Deathbed.

 

My Brother And I Had Gone To Be With Him As He Laid On His Deathbed.

 

My Brother And I Had Gone To Be With Him As He Laid On His Deathbed. My Brother And I Had Gone To Be With Him As He Laid On His Deathbed. My Brother And I Had Gone To Be With Him As He Laid On His Deathbed. My Brother And I Had Gone To Be With Him As He Laid On His Deathbed.

 

 

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