{bedside whispers.} for 5.7.12

“You don’t have much time.”

The hand I’m holding grows weaker by the minute.

“You’ll be with Jesus soon.”

Say hi to mama and my baby brother for me.

“Don’t worry. It’ll be okay.”

But it won’t, you’ll be gone.

“Make sure you ask one of the angels to get you a puzzle to work on.”

And maybe a McDonalds apple pie to eat, because you always said the two combined admirably.

The hand grows limp, the eyes shut, and the heart beat stops.

That’s the man that nurtured, fed, hugged, grounded, married, kissed, and loved me.

 “Goodbye, daddy.”

                        The tears begin to slide.

“I love you.”

(i felt the need to write something with italics.)