One Way Ticket

A week ago, my father died.

Well, not quite a week ago. More like six days and twelve hours. It’s morning as I write this; he died in the evening. I got the call at 9:30 pm, in the car driving home after dropping off The Kid.

Is it weird to focus on precision? Probably. Given that I got my OCD from my dad, though, maybe it’s not inappropriate right now.

The time of death on his death certificate is 10:40, because that’s when the hospice people got there to make it all official. That bo...