my dad had a real heavy whiskery face.
if he was going out at nite and wanted to
look clean and decent, he'd have to shave
when i was a kid, i'd draw pictures of him,
and i'd always put little dots all over his
chin and cheeks for his whiskers.
he kept himself really clean shaven and
if things were off in his world, i knew by
his whiskers. he'd need a shave.
when he lay dying, he was in a coma. and he
needed a shave. i thought that was fitting
as things were definitely outta control
in his world.
my brother shaved him tho. i don't think he
knew why he shaved him....but i thought i did.
it made my brother feel like things were a
bit less outta control.
last nite i found myself entangled in an
outta control situation. and i was trying my
best to help. at one point, i turned to him
and said 'meet me at the water fountain?'
i needed to talk to him alone.
there is no water fountain, so we stood over
by the trash cans. it was one of the few times
i got a grin out of him. he grinned at me and
said 'what do you spose this looks like?'
and i looked up at his face. and that's the first
time i noticed the whiskers.
i had been with him for hours. but we were
concentrating and working so hard, i guess i hadn't
i saw the whiskers and my heart sunk.
life is outta control for him.
i concentrated on the task at hand and did what
i needed to do with him.
we finished up part one. we both feel we did as good
as we could and we left it. and we both are waiting
to be led to part two.
life is still outta control for him.
and this morning, i can't get those whiskers outta