It's been a month since Daddy died. Well, that's not quite right. It's been a month since Daddy's lungs gave out and his body ceased to function. In all honesty, most of the man who helped make me who I am had been eroded away already. There were barely glimmers anymore of the man he was. The summer of 2019, Daddy was diagnosed with dementia. What had started as a little memory loss, when the man who knew everybody's name had to start asking Momma what someone's name was, became so much worse, so fast. By Thanksgiving, he got lost on the way to the restroom in a house he'd been to hundreds of times. The man who had never met a stranger started to freak out when he couldn't find Momma among the sea of unfamiliar faces consisting of family and friends he had known for decades. It was sad and scary. But on January 6th, 2020, reality truly hit me for the first time. Our car needed repairs. The mechanic said it would be $600 and he could fix it. He also sai...
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