Bitter Farewell Read Free

never blamed her father for a second. After the strokes and Parkinson's, not to mention the start of Alzheimer’s, the best thing for the old man was to rest and talk about his life, things he wanted to do, and things he had done.
    Liv poured just a little cream into the coffee, leaving it mostly black. She knew her father may want more, but recently he wanted it more black, so she knew she could add creamer but couldn’t take any out. The whole I want my coffee dark thing started just last month, along with a lot of other little things that popped up. It was the Alzheimer’s and his mind slipping away.
    She walked the coffee into the living room, to the chair that was once a rich blue color but now was faded and ripped. Charlie refused to buy a new chair and Liv didn’t argue. She loved the way it smelled. Sometimes at night, she sat in the chair. She’d close her eyes and inhale the smell, thinking of the old days. The good times, when her mother was alive and her brothers and sisters cared enough to come around. Somewhere between then and now, enough cracks formed in the family foundation that it all came toppling down. The last straw was when Charlie lost his house. Years of ignoring his taxes and struggling with the management of money. Thanks to his mind slipping away forced the bank to take the house. Liv stepped in and tried to get her two brothers and one sister to chip in and save the house but they refused (and it was too late by then). They wanted to put Charlie in a home and liquidate all they could, letting him live his last few years (as they put it) so the kids could enjoy his savings and pension. This enraged Liv and she packed her father up and moved him into her house. Somedays it got to Charlie and he would stand in the front window and compare the house to his, wanting it back. Other days, he thought Liv’s house was his house, sometimes getting angry at her for changing things around.
    Liv put the coffee on a small stand next to her father’s chair. She opened the morning paper and left it ready for him. The smallest of routines sometimes helped the day go by without a hitch. Other times, it didn’t matter. His mind did what it wanted and Liv was at the mercy of it. But no matter what, it was so much better having him around than the alternative. She loved her father with all her heart.
    The steps creaked and Liv rushed to the bottom and pretended to mess with the lock on the front door. In reality, she waited to make sure her father didn’t stumble or fall down the steps. If she dared to ask him if he needed help he’d yell at her.
    “Morning, Dad,” she said. “Paper and coffee is there for you.”
    “Morning, Lisa,” her father said.
    The name thing just came with the territory. It didn’t bother her so much anymore.
    “I’m Liv,” she said. She hugged her father as he stood at the landing of the steps. “Who’s Lisa?”
    “Lisa who?” he asked.
    “Nothing,” she said.
    “Did you get the paper?”
    “It’s right over there,” Liv said.
    She walked with her father and when he looked at the coffee he shook his head. “Liv, can I get a little more cream in that?”
    “Of course,” Liv said. “I’ll be right back. Sit down. Start reading the paper.”
    Her father made a series of groans as he settled into his chair. Liv took the coffee back into the kitchen and added more cream to it. She had to smile as she did so because some mornings if she didn’t smile she would cry. And her father hated to see her cry. When she did, he would tell Liv that he wanted to move out to stop burdening her.
    “Olivia! Come here!”
    Liv lost her thought and rushed as quick as she could with a full cup of coffee. She saw her father sitting with the front page folded as he read it, shaking his head.
    “What’s wrong?”
    “Did you know Big John died?”
    Liv felt her heart twist each time her father asked the question. “Yes, Dad. He died two days ago.”
    “His wake is tomorrow,