We Were So Close, There Was No Room

Previously on Poor Impulse Control: Dad got sick. Everyone dropped everything and went to Virginia. We laughed, we cried, we made ganache. Dad died on April Fool’s Day and eventually we all saw the insides of our own houses again before we went back to Virginia for a memorial barbecue the day after what would have been Dad’s 66th birthday. Believe it or not, I’m still writing this story, and as I do, I’ll keep adding to this list. Only death is final. All else is editing.

Oh Jesus Christ, foreshadowing.

New Year’s Eve

Sing out!

leftovers

It’s cancer.

Life expectancy.

Mop fu.

The year of no birthdays

home from the hospital, yay!

weakness?

leaving tonight

Spaghettios!

hotel living, dying at home

the journey, the terror

Todd arrives, truths are told

praying with athiests

antics, remembered

Dad’s mad magic

a prelude

be prepared!

the actual ‘lude to what was pre

domestic pitcrew, gunfire

the outside world, in

TODD!

chicken feet and Shut Up Time

that chanting thing

care and manicure

phones, running on phumes

t-shirts, felines, DMV

roadblocks, slaphappy

the only truth I know is you

Daria departs, grownups arrive

I’m pretty wide

tired

Dad dies

Dad dies, I said

I come home

the undertaker

cows?

the outer world, again

poultry and legacy

cards

we don’t know what it means

gluten?

that damn tree

Like this

questions and quiet

the premonition

the guitars, the poster

Love Has No Pride

a public person

Into the fray, out of the ditch

Artifacts and Anthems

Hopefully the fucking archives will be working sometime soon.

Updated 5.29.07: Siobhan and Sharkey fixed the archives. PIC still has linky problems but at least the archives are visible. And the villagers rejoiced!

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