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January 17, 2013
Dad's dying. Slowly. Hospice is here. There was the initial wrenching pain that brought involuntary tears. So sad were the first signs of his frailty that showed the reality of the diagnosis. There was the emotional discomfort of not knowing what to say, how much to hover. But that was months ago. I can't keep that intense hurt fresh anymore. So as he slips and becomes more weak, I am inured. I'm anticipating that something will jar me into the proper grief mode. Probably, his death. Death is hard, awkward, painful and numbing. It makes us fumble, act scrappy, raw.