Mike and I went to Puerto Vallarta for three days. I didn't feel like writing about it before we left mainly because I felt guilty about leaving in the middle of all that's going on with my Dad right now. The trip was for Mike's birthday and we had planned it quite some time ago. Non-refundable tickets, hotel reservations, my brother came to town to stay with my Dad, blah, blah, blah...

Puerto Vallarta was beautiful and it was actually really helpful to get away for a few days to get some perspective on my life right now. We drank too much and slept for nine hours at a time. We floated on the waves in the warm ocean while gazing across to the lush green mountains. We drove dune buggys through the jungle and hiked up to a waterfall. We returned with tans and mosquito bites and tequila and Cuban cigars.

My life back here in LA, seemed a lot diffferent when thought about from that perspective. I kept forgetting that my Dad was sick and that I don't have a full time job and that I don't even really live at home right now. I called my Dad everyday and, without thinking, I would ask him what he's been up to. It seemed impossible that he had not gotten out of bed since I had last seen him. Each time that I did fully realize that, a pit would form in my stomach, a pit only quelled by lukewarm Negro Modello's at the pool.

While I was there, it began to seem absurd that my Dad is dying. I think that it so hard to lose someone who is dying of a slow illness because you just have too much time to think about the fact that they are dying. They are still there, you can talk to them and almost carry on a regular relationship but all the while, you are thinking about how they are never going to see the ocean again, they will never go to their favorite restaurant again, they will never see their dear friends that live far away again, they will never even go outside again. It gnaws and aches at you even as you gaze into their eyes and carry on a conversation with them. You want to ask them to stay. Stay so that they can see you get married, stay so that they can tell your children about what you were like as a kid, stay so that you can still call them in the middle of the night when you feel like a kid again, a kid who just wants the comfort of their parent. You want to ask these things but you can't.
10:15:25 AM     comment []