Undecorated Doorway

My dad is dying and I am doing my best to feel what I feel.

There is so much unpredictability and that is a challenge for me.

I have honed my abilities to predict, oh, I have honed them.

Those abilities are not serving me in this moment, the moment that commands me to feel deep into what is, under layers and layers of what I have been calling clothes.

My dad has lived 101 full years and now he has days or weeks left.

Death is an undecorated doorway that I am not familiar with, at least, if I am, I have forgotten. At this moment I choose not to decorate it.

I will leave this post at that for the time being