My father passed away last night. I wrote this a moment ago. Something may come of it, or maybe not. I felt I should keep it here, as if on a shelf, saved for later.

There was always a stigma around having children. Bryan grew up with a firm understanding that the life of a parent was not for him. Parents could be brash, confusing, arrogant, and false. Bryan wanted nothing to do with that world.

One night, while he slept, he dreamed of a child. His child, he knew in his heart, a part of him. There was warmth and contentment, a kind of peace you can only find in the world of dream. When the shrill cry of 6:30 came, tearing him from his make-believe progeny, he felt a loss and disappointment that could only be cured by a shower and a cup of coffee.

He didn’t think much of the dream after that.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s