"With its very own breath of brandy and death..."

Talked for a short while with Dad today, mostly just administrivia about a trip down to pick up furniture. The cardiac cath came up, he was talking about being annoyed that people were assuming he was refusing it out of fear. I said, "Well, if you took care of our cars the way you take care of your body, suddenly the number of vehicles we went through in my childhood makes much more sense." He laughed, and said I was right about that, he did treat pretty much everything that way. I laughed, we chatted some more, hung up, and then I pounded my head against a wall for a few moments.

Suddenly so much of my life makes so much more sense.
If you'll pardon me, I'm going to go get drunk now.

Edit: I am smarter than I thought, so instead of breaking out the bourbon, I broke out my yoga mat. I've been neglecting my practice in all senses of late, and after a good asana practice (I haven't backslid as much as I thought), I'm doing much better. This is what nurtures me, this is what heals. So I will do my practice and mourn, for the parents who had too many troubles of their own, and the sadness of watching them run from them till they run out of road. It will take time, but I will forgive them, too, and send them my blessings and prayers for healing in all senses, as I pray for the same for myself. I will do my practice, and all is coming.