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We got the call just after 7pm. My dad had gone for a run, collapsed, and was found dazed and confused by his friends, who called an ambulance. I drove my mom to the ER. We spent four endless hours at my dad's bed, waiting for test results that took forever to reach us. Just before midnight, the doctor told us my dad's heart was okay, but they'd keep him overnight for observation. My mom and I were sent home. We hadn't eaten yet. The house felt wrong when we came home. Empty without my dad. I started crying. "You have to eat something," my mom said. She dug up some chicken nuggets from the depths of the freezer. Everything felt incomplete with just the two of us there, but after a couple of chicken nuggets, we thought for the first time that everything would turn out okay. My dad is too stubborn to go like that. Especially when there are chicken nuggets to be eaten with his family.
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Jun 22, 2024

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tuesday afternoon, my family got some really traumatic news. i was supposed to take the train back to school but my mom wanted us to all drive (mind you it was 3pm and it's a 4 hour drive). we spent the car ride telling each other how much we love each other, starting arbitrary conversation to distract ourselves, sobbing, and laughing. we went out to dinner, my parents dropped me off and they spent another 4 hours driving home in the middle of the night. i called my dad the next day and he said it was his favorite drive to ann arbor that he's ever done. it was such a pure expression of full emotion and as painful as it was, it was also incredibly beautiful to connect like that.
Feb 8, 2024
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A few days ago, my dad woke up with the words "Ginny's not coming back inside."  Ginny is my dog, a nearly 15 year old Yellow Lab-German Shepard mutt that I rescued in 2013 at the age of 4. She's been a patient, loving and calm companion to me throughout my 20’s, and has overtime won the hearts of my Pakistani parents, both of whom were deeply terrified of large dogs until Ginny joined our family. What do you mean Ginny's not coming back inside? I asked. "She's not coming back inside. I think she likes it out there. I have to leave for work, can you let her back inside?" I nod yes and roll over. I hear my dad descend the stairs, leave the house, start his car and back out of the driveway before I get up myself. I scroll my phone aimlessly for a couple of minutes and decide to check on Ginny. I go to the back door. Usually when she’s ready, she meets us there, ready to re-enter the indoors. When I don't see her there, I immediately get worried - maybe she escaped from the yard.  It happened once before when someone forgot to close the gate. We found her a few hours later, having a solo picnic in the next-door neighbor's garbage. All the desperate cries she must have heard and ignored in pursuit of scraps; the frantic phone call to the police and nearby animal shelters. We drove around and walked in zig-zags all through our neighborhood only to discover she didn’t stray far at all. I open the door, now more alert and panicked than seconds ago, but quickly spot her across the backyard. Laying down.  I freeze until I see her chest rise and fall. She's sleeping. This was a few days ago.  Almost every time we let Ginny out now, we have to cajole her back inside because she loves being outside, alone, with nature. I don’t indulge her too much, I know isolation is a sign of discomfort and pain in dogs, but I think of my grandmother, my dad’s mom, who spent her final days napping in our yard, back when we lived in the suburbs of Toronto. My siblings and I would watch her, baffled, as she placed a sheet on the lawn, lay down and rested there for hours. Didn’t she want to be in the cool air conditioning, maybe watch some tv? Do something a little more… interesting? Wasn’t being outside deeply underwhelming? We never asked her these questions so I’m not sure what in particular she liked about the experience. If could guess, it made her feel connected to the earth, it gave her a sense of peace and comfort, she enjoyed the silence and simplicity of it. Yesterday, it was raining. I let Ginny out, thinking to myself, surely she’ll come back inside - it’s pouring rain, for god’s sakes - only to go out searching for her 10 minutes later to find her soaked, laying on the ground. I choked up at the sight. I brought her inside and dried her up. Later in the day, Ginny had her vet appointment. They weighed her. Unsurprisingly, she was 10 pounds short of her usual weight. Unsurprisingly, she was diagnosed with arthritis and dementia. They took bloodwork and warned there could be more. We wouldn’t have the results for a few days. They gave me some medicine to help her with pain management and appetite stimulants to help her regain some weight. Today, it’s cloudy but the rain won’t start for a few more hours. My mom suggested we bring a towel out to make Ginny more comfortable. I also gave Ginny my cashmere sweater as a blanket, placing it on top of her laying body. I thought she might like it, but it's hard to tell what she likes anymore. As I write this, she’s been out there for an hour now. It's time for her to come back inside, eat her breakfast and take her medicine.
Mar 6, 2024
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my dad whom i love more than anyone on earth is in the ICU and my family hasn’t gotten regular sleep or proper diet. every day is so hard and we have to keep going? i fly back to LA to continue working but it’s so hard leaving him feeling like anything could happen… fuck capitalism fr i should b able to stay w my family without losing my job
Jan 27, 2025

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