Thursday, October 27, 2005
Alcoholism and death
I'm watching this episode of ER that has Ray Liotta playing this drunk who's dying of liver disease, and he's all separated from his son and everything. He had been an artists before he got in trouble and spent time in jail. He carried his most important belongings around with him in a little suitcase- a photo of his family, a painting of a house he had lived in.
My father's liver and kidneys can't be in very good shape. His pee used to smell so bad (7 years ago when I last lived with him). My sister told me last week that he has email. When I've written him lettters, he hasn't written back. I had even put my email address in a letter at some point.
Every time I do see my dad, I wonder if it is the last time that I will ever see him. Alcoholism is such a sad thing. And Ray Liotta is so good at looking like a bum.
I was just thinking the other day about how my dad had built us a clubhouse. It was so awesome. It seemed to take him such a long time to build it- there was an ever growing mountain of cigarette butts at the base of the tree that the treehouse was next to. When we moved into the house behind the one we had been living in, we took the treehouse with us. I remember all the time we spent in it, with pet rocks and mystical crystals that we found around our yard and our neighbors'. Or reading books about witchcraft or transcendental meditation. And later we just stored our bikes in there.
email me at haydees@gmail.com
My father's liver and kidneys can't be in very good shape. His pee used to smell so bad (7 years ago when I last lived with him). My sister told me last week that he has email. When I've written him lettters, he hasn't written back. I had even put my email address in a letter at some point.
Every time I do see my dad, I wonder if it is the last time that I will ever see him. Alcoholism is such a sad thing. And Ray Liotta is so good at looking like a bum.
I was just thinking the other day about how my dad had built us a clubhouse. It was so awesome. It seemed to take him such a long time to build it- there was an ever growing mountain of cigarette butts at the base of the tree that the treehouse was next to. When we moved into the house behind the one we had been living in, we took the treehouse with us. I remember all the time we spent in it, with pet rocks and mystical crystals that we found around our yard and our neighbors'. Or reading books about witchcraft or transcendental meditation. And later we just stored our bikes in there.
email me at haydees@gmail.com
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