Lifeline

“Hi Dad. It’s Katie.”

“Katie who?”

“Your daughter.”

“Oh, Rita’s friend,” Dad says, “When are you coming over next?”

“In two weeks. For Thanksgiving,” I reply.

“I’m sure I’ll be dead by then,” he says.

“You better not be. I’m buying you a new lift chair this week. Mum’s going to come over and measure you,” I say.

“Make sure you explain it’s not for a box,” he replies.

We laugh.

photo 2

“I need you to push the emergency button on your wrist. We’re supposed to test it every month,” I say.

“Why? What’ll happen?” he asks.

“I don’t know. Let’s find out,” I reply.

Dad pushes the button and the phone line goes dead.

I call back but it’s busy so I keep trying until it goes through.

“What happened?” I ask.

“Everything,” he says, “Even a floating hand with toilet paper appeared. I don’t know what it was going to do.”

We laugh.

“You can hear it from Sooke too,” he says, “And it even had me talk to Rita for a few minutes.”

We laugh.

photo 1

 

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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 Lifeline

  1. lorraine says:

    beautiful 🙂

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