New Years Eve, 7:43.
by Laura Johnson
It really wasn't any sort of surprise, not with knowing about his Hep-C at least half my my life. Then again at 8 years old the concept never really sunk in. And as I sat in the nursing home with the family from out of state sitting vigil, things were just numb. They stayed numb for three days after he stopped breathing at 7:43 pm, New Years eve, while the family emptied the apartment. Since for years I was the only one living with him and the family didn't really understand the point of some of dads things I had to sort out a good deal of it. Going back to school was... different. The entire world seemed to have been caught in some twisted time warp, one where nothing had changed and I was one of the few to even notice. Even to this day, a little over a year later I'm terrified of forgetting the details, the thing that made Dad Dad.