I'm still mostly in shock. How can he be dead? He wasn't dead two days ago. He hasn't been dead my whole life. How can he possibly decide to be dead now? I know that sounds crazy. But I still half expect him to drive up in his little blue car, blasting Madonna and asking me about school. We could go to New York City like we used to, chock these last two years all up to a bad dream.
I'm trying to picture him the way he was, back before he lost his hair and all that weight. I'm trying to remember his glasses, what he smelled like, what his uniform looked like, what it was like to hug him and not be afraid to break something. But then I realize that man is really gone. He's laying on a slab. A couple days from now he's gonna be lain out in a church, in his Yankees cap and jersey. He won't be calling anymore. He can't text me anymore. I should probably delete his number from my phone... but I can't. All those times I complained about visiting him over the weekend... I don't have to do that anymore either.
I feel like I'm gonna throw up.
Here's a video made for my dad by his boyfriend. The song's probably poorly chosen and the pictures aren't all that great, but I think it's sweet.