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DAD'S LAST DAY

I lost my father in May, 2019. In the moments after he was gone, I said a few words, and then collected the things around him at that moment....the mask he was wearing for a treatment when his incredibly labored breathing finally ceased. His glasses - he always made sure to remind me "Seano, don't let them bury me without my glasses." The soda and pudding he asked for once he went into hospice and all his food restrictions were gone for good. His ID bracelet. The ticket with the door code to leave the unit. Some of the most mundane objects suddenly rendered holy in that moment. I miss you dad, and I love you. I hope you've finally found some peace.

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