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Balor and Annwyn, Arianrhod and Druantia.

Third time is a charm. I’ve been trying to write this for better then a month.
Various things have come up, preventing me. Tonight, I vowed, it’s getting done.
No matter what.
So my computer decides to have 2 major crashes after digging in for a couple of paragraphs.
One could get a complex, were one superstitious.
Or..perhaps I could learn to save my work a bit more often.
Screw it. Let’s do this.
I was on my way home from an appointment about my hand.
I had the kiddo with me, since my appointment was at an ungodly hour of the morning. 6 am, to be exact.
I’d just reached the subway station. I wasn’t happy. I wasn’t unhappy.
When my cell phone rang, and I saw his name, I smiled and answered it.  It wasn’t him.
It was my step mother.
“Sit down!”
And I knew.  I asked anyway, because I wanted it to not be real.
To not be happening.
No.
It was.
My dad had died, and for the …I can’t even number them anymore…too many ‘th time of late, my life was knocked apart.
The day before, there had been a flood in my kitchen, from under the sink.
A hot water flood. A truly awful thing to wake up to.
I burnt my thumb and forefinger, trying to shut off the water.
I didn’t feel it, because of my “stupid hand”..the very reason I’d had the appointment with the specialist.
I called my dad to find out where I might find the water shut off in the basement, because while I’d been able to find the main water shutoff, I was unable to find the one for the hot water alone. Surprise, surprise. My house doesn’t have one.
He came over anyway, with my step mother. To help.
Like he always did when I called him.
Always.
Always.
Did.
Used to.
He went down to the basement to help me find the shutoff. And..his legs were shaking, but he was doing it anyway.
Doing.
Did.
Because that’s the sort of person he is.
Was.
Shit.
He had a look under the sink, and asked if I had a torch. There was a moment of hesitation where I should have said “no, that’s okay. I’m going to get a plumber”
But I didn’t. Because it was my dad, and my dad was strong.
The only person who’d take it upon himself to try to solve my problems. No having to keep up a front, no having to explain about not being able to do it.
No apologies.
Just “is” …was.
As he got up from trying to torch and torc the pipe, I saw his face was ashy. He hadn’t been in the greatest health, this and that.
It doesn’t matter now, as to the what.
I went down to the basement, and turned the water on slowly.
No. It leaked.. I turned it back off, and I thanked him for trying.
He was already heading for the door, and he didn’t even turn to look at me.
His last words to me were harsh.
I know he was in pain.
I know that he hurt.
I know he didn’t mean it.
That doesn’t matter now, either.
My step mother and I shrugged at each other, and she followed him out the door.
I called the plumber, and my day went on like “usual”..or whatever passes for normal for me right now.
..but there was this moment.
3 thirty in the morning.
I’d taken something to ensure I slept. My morning came early, because I had a specialist’s appointment.
I woke up.
Sharply.
Suddenly.
I was awake.
Very awake.
I didn’t know why. I wasn’t disoriented. It wasn’t a bad dream.
I sat awake for the rest of the night, unable to sleep.
Restless, and not knowing why. In the morning, I woke my step daughter.
I made my way to my appointment, and all was going about as well as could be expected.
I made my way home from my appointment. I had the kiddo with me, since my appointment was at an ungodly hour of the morning. 6 am, to be exact.
I’d just reached the subway station. I wasn’t happy. I wasn’t unhappy.
When my cell phone rang, and I saw his name, I smiled and answered it. It wasn’t him.
It was my step mother. “Sit down!” And I knew. I asked anyway, because I wanted it to not be real. To not be happening.
No.
It was. My dad had died, and for the …I can’t even number them anymore…too many ‘th time of late, my life is knocked apart.
PICT0059
Molaidh mi thu, a bhais, air son seo,
agus air son seo a-mhain:
do cheartas coma a leagas an t-aintighearna
gu lar- ‘s nach leig leothasan
mar Sellar is Ceausescu
a bhith beo gu brath

2 responses to “Balor and Annwyn, Arianrhod and Druantia.”

  1. llxt llxt says:

    This is such a poignant memorial to your father. I'm sure it was painful to write, but also very important. Thanks for sharing it with us.

  2. Avatar The Tailor says:

    I hope you achieve some level of catharsis as a result of writing this. It may be too soon for that, but I applaud the piece regardless.

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