November 30

 Tomorrow is November 30th.  What would have been my dad's 77th birthday if he hadn't passed away almost 5 years ago.  I miss my dad.  That's not to say he was a perfect dad or that mistakes weren't made, because they were. I mostly miss the dad I had before we moved to Illinois.  We did wonderful things.  He took me to the St Louis art museum when a Monet exhibit visited.  Taught me about ancient Egypt and gun powder and the stars.  Then some bad shit happened (that was NOT his fault) and he felt we needed to move.  I ended up in Illinois and learned what depression was.  I was 10.  I hated moving here.  Nobody was nice to me for the first two years I lived here.  I guess I like the nature but I hate the people. I have very few friends.  But hey, I'm 52. Why do I need lots of friends at this point?  I drifted.  This was about me missing my dad.  He spent most of his retirement savings so mom has had to learn to live with coupons and deals and had discovered the dollar store. I'm not happy about him doing that but he had Parkinson's and your mind starts to go.  I first realized he wasn't right in 2012 when he asked me where Roxy, my dog was.  I had to have her put to sleep in 2010 because she had advanced cancer.  He would never have forgotten that if he was ok.  Mom turned 77 earlier this year.  Right now she has bronchitis.  She was tested for covid-19 but it was negative.  The antibiotics are clearing her up.  She's got congestive heart failure and kidney disease. We were never close like dad and I were but I go over every few days or so.  I know it's going to be hell for me when she goes.  It's funny because I'd just like to go to sleep and not wake up again. It would be easier.  For me anyway.