Dear Dad

Had a bad dream last night. Technically it was maybe this morning.

I can't remember why, but Mark and I were talking. He was showing me pictures of his girlfriend (who wasn't his actual girlfriend), some blonde bimbo on his digital camera. The pictures were progressively not suitable for public consumption and the last one she was full-on naked. I was appalled (predictably) and then he started talking about how happy he was and how maybe you should have broken up with Mom a long time ago and then maybe you would have been happy, too. I woke up right around the time I was going to hit Mark in the mouth.

I told M about it. His response: "Wow. Even Dream Mark is a dick."

So it seems like I've got some anxiety about the upcoming visit. Truth be told, I'd rather go see PaPa and avoid everyone else. I look forward to many, many repetitions (by Mark) of "You ain't gonna get shit when the old man dies."

I never really expected that I'd feel bad for PaPa. Look at how things change.

I don't know. I guess you were always a pretty big buffer on these trips. I enjoyed seeing you enjoying your family. Playing cards with them, without you, just isn't the same.

I miss you, Dad.