One Saturday you walk into your dad's hospital room and as you touch the skin of his liver spotted forehead and wonder if it's been like that or if they're not cleaning him you realize you hadn't visited for a couple days not because you didn't want to argue with or upset him but because this might be the beginning of losing the man who chipped and carved at you till you were mostly useful withstood the barrage of your youth and then waited how did he know to tell you he was proud over the phone as you sat in the grass of your front yard with your two year old boy in the warm spring sun thinking oh this will be forever.