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On a death, following decades of silence

Mom and Dad parted ways when I was about 5. They never formally divorced; I don’t know why and I don’t want to know why.

I’m not sure when was the last time I saw my dad. My best guess is when I was about 13, because I remember what we did (trip to a nearby lake) but there’s no record of it, no photos, no nothing.

My dad’s youngest sister told me dad died about an hour ago. I don’t feel sad, not really. Most awful feelings have already been discussed, cried over and have been mostly accepted and passed through in the 20+ years since he’s not lived with us.

I simply don’t know how to process it (and yes, the fact that I have a depressive disorder has to do with it)

One more to the “reasons why this year is supremely strange” pile.


Evening note: It's funny, isn't it? There's a distinct hole in my stomach, but I cannot discern its shape, what it's made of or why it's there.