Alzheimer Dad

Dear old dad..I'm still processing his death, his life..I see him as a young 27 year old man, standing by the fence talking to a neighbor..my son and i went to maryland to visit cousins..for thanksgiving..hours and hours of traffic, followed by a lost credit card, short money, a wonderful day followed by a rushed hair cut for me and the kid at aforementioned cousin's salon..i look like joan of arc and he looks like grace jones..but that's only because it was rushed,as i said. the riche in nouveau is so attractive, dish washers, washer dryers enough heat..we come back to our house which is yet again out of heating oil...damn...i am not attracted to the lack of asthetics, cruddy wall art..of the suburbs..i offered to put cranberry sauce back into the can.."pretty urban" said my gay cousin laura.."okay", says I, I'll find the tupperware..theres got to be tupperware..this is suburbia...tupperware and mary kay..right?? I know it's around here..and sure enough..a huge drawerful..we both giggled. my cousins are renegades from a tough brooklyn childhood...and loved my suburban upbringning..i didn't wish for their tough brooklyn world, but i certainly didn't want to be a housewife kafffe klatscher..and i am not..i guess..but this no heat it bad..i've had a cold for days..my son is stoic..we've called the landlord..the son of a bitch..2x tonite...he got this house for a song..and hasn't bothered fixing it up...put a roof on..hasn't made the repairs to make it livable..broken windows, broken stairs..inadequate locks..ugghhhhhhh..