Only In His Mind

The prompt for The Red Dress Club today is to post your favorite Red Writing Hood. But my favorite is a RememRed and I hope you’ll read it anyway.

I am over at the Christian Women’s Online Network today. They have so graciously published a post i wrote a few weeks ago When the Enemy Tries To Destroy Self Esteem. I hope you’ll take a minute or two to go by and give it a read. If you like what you read go ahead and leave me some comment love or “like” it for me. Thanks friends.

This post is a response to the 5/13/2011 RemebeRED prompt at The Red Dress Club.Write about a first or (second) memory you have when you see this:

As he lay in the hospital bed I watched as he drew in a deep breath as if he was smoking a cigarette. I had seen him do this thousands of times over the years, but this was a hallucination. The pain medication had taken him to a place he loved, a place of indulgence with cigarettes, beer, and all his favorite food. His imagination took him there because he had not been allowed to go for weeks since his colon ruptured.

My father was a strong, virile man, my hero. When this awful tragedy happened I watched as he became a weak, frail man who didn’t know the world around him. And this day he was no different. He was enjoying his imaginary game so I played right along.

“Hey can you get me a chocolate milkshake?” I shook my head and said,” Are you sure about that?” He took another long draw from his Winston and said, “Oh yeah, it will feel good on my throat, I’m so thirsty.” Knowing he could not have anything pass between his lips I told a lie, something I didn’t do very often to my daddy, “Ok, next time I go to McDonald’s I’ll bring back a chocolate milkshake.” That seemed to satisfy for the moment and he replied, “Thanks sweetie and how bout gettin’ me another pack of cigarettes too?”

When I left his room that day I did not know it would be the last conversation I would have with him. The next day he was put into a drug induced coma and passed away a week later.

We found two cigarette butts in his heavy marble ashtray at home. I keep them in a Ziploc bag, in a box, in my closet, in my mind, in my heart…



  1. You recreated the scene so well, you took me right there with you beside your father’s hospital bed. Well done.

  2. It’s heartbreaking, in that subtle way I love so well.
    Great writing!

  3. The things we keep after someone passes … sorry for your loss. I can’t imagine how it would be to be in that situation, and I hope I never know.

  4. Such a simple, clean memory with much behind it. Good job.
    Came from TRDC.

  5. stopping in from TRDC
    This is beautiful, as painful as it is. Thank you for sharing this special moment.

  6. I was transported to that room with you. Wow … the last line though was the most poignant.
    Thank you for sharing

  7. Stopped in from TRDC, this is heart breaking and well written. I thank you for sharing this stirring memory with me.

  8. I felt your pain as you had to lie to him. Thank you so much for sharing this.

  9. What a hard experience. I’m sorry for that. I’m sure you have gone over in your head what you would have said if you knew it was your last conversation with your Daddy a million times. Just know that he heard that conversation as well.

  10. This post broke my heart. I can’t imagine the loss, not for a minute. Very poignant piece, well written.

  11. I missed this one the first time around, so I’m glad you shared it again. It’s beautifully, heartachingly written.

  12. I don’t know why I didn’t comment this the first time. I remember it so vivdly because two weeks later I wrote about my grandfather, five years after his death.

    It’s amazing how powerful the memories and the emotions are years later. Thanks for letting me read this…twice.

  13. 😦 .. there is a pain streaking my heart and i don’t know what to label it as… just felt like crying….please take care…


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