I never knew that my dad was afraid of falling. I never even had a hint of it. I knew he never ran- but I thought it was because of his hip replacements. Or just a general dislike of running- I mean, I never run, but that’s just a dislike of exercise.

Turns out, he was deathly, hysterically afraid of falling.

I never knew that.

Stop the world, I want to get out

I need an escape away from this doubt

The first gift my dad ever gave me was back when he was still just ‘Mr. G’. I’ve never been a huge sci-fi fan (sci-fan, yes, pure sci-fi, not so much), but I’ve always loved to read. It was one thing we had in common from the start.

Arthur C. Clarke’s Rama series. Rendezvous with Rama was in paperback, but Rama 2, Garden of Rama, and Rama Revealed were all in hardback. I wish I had kept the ones he gave me instead of giving them away when I went Kindle-mad and converted so many of my books.

It’s the little things that trip me up the most:

Seeing his wedding ring on a chain around Mom’s neck.

Opening a jar of the homemade salsa he canned.

The unfinished puzzle on their dining room table.

The puppy ‘he’ named being the one that gives me the most comfort.

Seeing his name in the family text thread when we check in with each other.

Knowing that every single photo on the shelves in our living room is one he took.

IT’S NOT FUCKING FAIR