A Heart That Works

by Rob Delaney

A heart that hurts is a heart that works.

So you sit there like a decaying disused train station while freight train after freight train overloaded with pain roars through you. Maybe one will derail and explode, destroying the station and killing you, and you can go be with your child. Would that be so bad?

Cancer’s pretty much going to do what it wants. Should it come for me, I hope I’ll just ride the wave.

We’d listen to Asgeir and drift off and dream together. What I would fucking give to do that again. To sleep next to and dream with my beautiful boy.

If I died tomorrow, those would probably be the greatest memories of my life. A boy and his daddy together, dreaming and sleeping. Sleeping and dreaming.

His death and physical absence cause me great and enduring pain,

Grief colors the happy moments now, the milestones. Holidays are totally fucked.

The fatigue of grief is fucking staggering.