Still dead?

It's been over two weeks, and I've told lots of people about my father's death, but each time, I have to pause a microsecond and ask myself "what am I saying? Aren't you pushing it? This hasn't happened yet (it was always something that was going to happen, in the future). What will he say when he comes back to his senses and hears you've been telling everyone he's dead?" And I have to force myself to picture it: him lying on the bed, in the room, the air conditioner on --he would never have let the room be that cold if he was alive--he had been too cold for weeks. The doctor explained it all. He was very professional. And what do you think is in the brass urn on the buffett, with a neatly folded American flag in front of it? It's a good thing I get to keep that for a while (another week). It helps. Maybe if I'd seen my Dad more often all along, it would seem more believable. As my husband has said, so much of the time the Duffer has existed as an idea--"got to give him a call, see how he's doing"--interspersed with quick visits. But still, he was there. Ruling the world from his assisted living apartment in NJ.

I remember when I spoke to him on New Years' day, he told me he was feeling optimistic. I assume he meant about the future of the world, as well as his health and perhaps his finances (which were always good, as far as I was concerned. He had enough for anything he wanted...). Then, a month or two later, he started talking about what became a growing obsession with the terrorists getting hold of nuclear materials. I didn't ask him, but I wondered, "I thought you were optimistic..." I wonder now, if his unconscious wasn't responding to growth of cancer cells, sending out messages of besiegement, that he interpreted politically. It is all the democrats fault for not taking terrorism seriously, really meant, something is coming and we are ignoring it.