– Where are we going?

He remembers.

– I should have worn my blue suit to match the doctor’s blue eyes.

I knit while we wait to admit him.

– Ah, nevermind. Let’s go home. It’s not so bad.

I say goodbye before I leave the hospital.

– See you in a few hours.

We hold hands.

–       God willing.

Dad says.

He wakes up at home.

–       Are you hungry?

He can’t sit up.

–       I am nourished by your beauty.

The next day, he sits in his electric chair.

– How’s the pain?

–  I’m doing good.

He says, weathered.

–       The painkillers kick in?

–       No, my dirty mind.


About Morbid Optimist

My name is Katryna Mary Brooke Ormiston. I am 35 years old and after living in Vancouver for a decade, I am returning home to my 81 year old father’s hobby farm on Vancouver Island to care for him in the final stages of his life. This blog is to document my journey, process my experiences along the way and hopefully share and feel connected to a community beyond the three and a half acres I find myself on. A message in a bottle in the cyber-sea.
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2 Responses to Surgery

  1. vicki pierobon says:

    I’m glad the surgery went well and your Dad came out of it with his sense of humor intact 🙂

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