$76,000

"The hospital called me a week or so after your mom was dead."

Dead. Sounds like a book hitting the floor of an empty room. He never says it like that-its' always, 'when Vickie died'. He uses mom's name always. Except this time.

"...a week or so after your mom was dead...and they told me I owed them $76,000."

Instant rage. Seventy-six thousand dollars? A week or so? He owed them?

"I-you know what I did? I fuckin' I said, 'I owe you? You killed my wife! I don't owe you shit! You can all go fuck yourselves!' And then I hung up on 'em. Never heard from 'em again."   

His voices changes as he tells the story. He goes from dad to widower and the sadness, hurt and still present anger is so strong over the phone, I feel it. I instantly regret calling, bringing this up.

"Dad, I-"

"That's why I had to do what I did. That's when all the shit started. Couldn't finish the house.....now I can't go fishing....got it all fucked up."

His voice belongs to someone else now. A vulnerable man that has tried so hard to do right by everyone. He blames himself when things aren't perfect and suddenly he sounds like someone I know.



I remember the day in the courthouse.  He's in a suit-I'd never seen him in one until mom's funeral. I watch him stand as they read his story, his head slightly bent and naked from his trademark fisherman's cap. They asked him if had anything he wished to say.

"I know I made some mistakes. I just...I'm glad my wife ain't here to see it."

Mom laying in a bed that wasn't hers, hospital gray blankets covering her to the chin, nothing is bright in here. Her reaching out to me, leaning up for a kiss goodbye, smiling sadly. She hated it there. She wanted to come home they kept saying she couldn't and it pissed her off. It made her feisty and proud for a little while. Then she got worse and she was in the hospital. Why is everything so gray? She doesn't know I'm there for a few days, but when she does, I know. I'm the last to say goodbye and later when walking to the car, I know I'm never going back in there again.

Dad handles everything else. The urn, the service, the day, time, place to go after, all of it. 

I slept.

The Facility calls him to demand her things be picked up and then later to tell him there is a bill outstanding of $1200 and they expect immediate payment. The creditors from bills long past due sue d when mom's catalog orders catch up. 

"....a week or so after your mom was dead and they told me I owed them $76,000."

"That's when all the shit started."

A vulnerable man that has tried so hard to do right by everyone....

Go fuck yourselves.