The dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had
The week my grandfather died and we were all down there with him... I couldn't stop trying to memorize everything about him. I counted the freckles or liver spots on his left hand every day waiting for the number to change. I examined the ridges in his bad fingernail from when he got his hand stuck while loading artillary into a huge gun on the back of a navy ship. I combed through his hair to remember the thickness. It's so important... the feel of things. I'm not sure I could deal with another person leaving my life. It feels like everyone leaves you somehow in someway in the end.