How can you not?
September 17, 2002 12:02 a.m.
As I drove along I78, I started pondering just what would happen if my father died? Would we have the typical american funeral? Weepy flowers, sniffly guests, people who just seem to creep out of the woodwork and give you their condolences even though you don't know them from Adam, bad lighting, trite sentiments written in the cheap leather-bound guestbook, and on top of it all - me and mom pretending we're not secretly relieved that it's all over.How on earth do you expect me to act. The other day I told Jessie that what kills me that most is I don't think I would miss him. She replied, "You think that now, you won't then." But she doesn't really understand. How can you love a man when your first memory of him is the night he and mommy got into a fight. He was trying to pull her out the back door by her hair and she was screaming at you to call 911. But he was screaming too... he was screaming that if you did what mommy said, that he would leave right then and you would never see him again.
How could you not be glad he's dead?
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