2 deaths ~ 1 old. 1 new.

today it has been 26 years since my father died.

today, Buddy, my humidifier that helps me breathe at night, died.

i am affected by both in similar ways.

1. i felt safe with my father being around.  i felt safe trying to fall asleep with Buddy pumping out warm, misty air for me to suck into my scarred lungs.

2. neither asked much of me.  my father only wanted me to love him and be a good girl.  Buddy only wanted me to clean him out occasionally so his motor could run for me.

3. both gave me a clue that they were on their final days, but, like a fool, i thought i had more time.

4. i got to see my father before he died to say goodbye but i was still at a loss.  i still am.  i feel like i failed my father; like i wasn't good enough as a daughter for him to hang around longer for.  Buddy quit on me this morning and i am at a loss tonight.  i feel like i failed him.  did not not take care of him good enough?  he's no longer able to talk to me.

5. i did not ever get another father.  i will get another humidifier.  {i have to.}

i think i will name my new humidifier after my father.  Johnny.  i have no explanation why that comforts me.