sitting in a Veteran’s Services Office, waiting to file paperwork for a few bucks to help with the gravestone and shipping costs. Last night I dreamed my dad was actually a secret agent, and that’s why he was so quiet over the last 30 years: he was on assignment. that’s why the mysterious hints of parts of his life; that’s why a few odd coincidences popped up. (he worked at a dolphin place, and a dolphin there shared the same name I did. things like that.)

of course that’s ridiculous fantasy, and the truth was, he was an alcoholic with a lot of trauma in his past, who didn’t like getting close to people because of a fear of rejection. he was a soft heart and an artist and gentle, in a generation where those were traits that couldn’t be associated with manliness and manhood. he was willing to offer help wherever help was needed, and had a naturally charming demeanor - some would see it as flirtatious.