3.14. Pi day.
–
Still sick, I’m intent on spending the day editing photos and watching movies, eager to recover.
–
A psoriasis commercial:

“Psoriasis is a sign of an overactive immune system”
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I think of my father – he’s had this flaky skin disorder, once a cause of adolescent embarrassment during introductions to my friends, as far back as I can remember. I’m relieved that my old man’s got a powerful defense mechanism, even if we haven’t spoken in a month.
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Micron lays her paw on my arm and gazes into my eyes with those black oceans of pure dog love, then begins to urgently lick my face.
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The phone rings.

“Hi, grandma!”

“Hi. How are you?”

“Pretty sick, actually.”

“Oh. Your father died.”

The delivery is so dry, I ask if she’s joking.

Dad, 1950 – 2011