Thursday, December 20, 2007

When I was a kid, I always thought that God would look like my dad

I mean, it wasn't something I pondered a whole bunch, my church/religious experiences were sporadic at best, but if you'd asked me what God looked like, I would have described my dad - tall, thin-ish, clean cut with dark hair and dark eyes - and wearing the requisite flow-y white robe and outlined in blinding rays of sun.

My stepmom called tonight to let me know that my dad is in the hospital - he's been sick for a couple of weeks, he thought it was the flu, but it turns out that it's congestive heart failure - and he only knows this because she forced him to go to the doctor (now I know where my reluctance to see a doctor unless I'm bleeding from the eyeballs comes from).

My stepmom sounded sunny and upbeat (like always) so I didn't really think it was anything serious serious, but when she said the words "living will"... I don't know - it was kind of a reality check... or something... I don't know...

Labels: adventures in shitty parenting