I just had a lengthy and good phone conversation with my dad...
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Speaking with him always requires careful planning...call too early and he is waking up with a hangover, call too late and he is shitfaced, sloppy drunk...
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When I called today he was out in his yard pulling weeds and apparently in a very philosophical mood. We talked about what books we've been reading, the beauty of John Steinbeck, he expressed sincere concern over how my mom is dealing with the deaths of her brothers...it was just a nice conversation. And it made me realize how much we've both missed over the years because of his disease. But I won't dwell on that because at this late stage of his life, I will take whatever good I can get from him.
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