Poly Trolley

Dad struggled to get her to wake up, begging her can you wake up, Staci’s here, Staci wants to talk to you

She eventually opened her eyes and said hi

Dad left the room so I could talk to her, but I couldn’t really say anything, she had fallen asleep and wouldn’t wake up and wouldn’t answer, I just kept squeezing her hand and saying hi and asking her to wake up

She finally opened her eyes for a minute and I wanted a goodbye hug but I couldn’t reach over the armrest and I didn’t know how to lower it, so I panic yelled for dad to get back and by the time he got back in the room she’d fallen asleep again

We struggled get her awake again, but she finally did and I dove forward for a hug and she gave one and then dad had to help her hold her arm up but she hugged me and I got to hug her and put my head to her chest one last time

I told her she tried. That for a while she stopped trying and it hurt so much, but then she tried again, and it was good, it was important, she tried, she tried, for so long, for a decade we had time together where she tried to parent and care

And she tried to live in the hospital but it was done, she was tired, she couldn’t. And it’s not okay but it’s okay everyone gets tired eventually

Her arms were covered in bruises, just the whole thing. I’m so glad I didn’t have to see her fucked up skin grafted legs

She fell asleep again and this time she was more insistant, we really struggled to wake her up again but she barely could, she couldn’t get her eyes open, but when I said goodbye she smiled

And then I had to walk away. And i sobbed throughout the walk to the lobby I wonder how the nurses felt seeing it I wonder how frequent it is for them I don’t think I could work a job where I hear people sobbing and don’t try to intervene / actively choose to let them get it out like Everett or Ali at work

We sat in the lobby and I put my head on dad’s shoulder and we held hands and cried. I repeated she said hi she hugged me she smiled.

I begged him to not be one of those spouses that goes within six months of their spouse, he promised he’d stay around, it’s the second time we’ve had that convo. I said I was worried he’d be lonely, he said he had stuff to do, I told him I’d get him more books at the library. He gave me a summary of the second half of the book I’d gotten out for him, the fannish style of his explanation soothed my sobbing. Just like fandomy stuff has always gotten me through mental health stuff. He’s recently wondered if I’m autistic based on a sportsball player he likes getting diagnosed and looking up symptoms and it’s like no, i work with heavily autistic kids at work that’s not me, I have ocd and sensory issues but no communication issues, but man does hyperfixating on something help, stories and scripts have always helped

We talked about the slow logistics of the next steps, he’s going to have Heather and Colin help for the funeral stuff, but there’s so much cleaning and sorting to do. He wants to keep the bed, we have all this food she’ll never eat

A few hours later after coming home he asked how I was doing I told him I took a gummy he basked how that was going I apologized for being a bad daughter/son/offspring but I was sad but also kinda enjoying my weekend. He said he cycles through being fine and crying


In the hospital we’d talked about how he didn’t want to be his dad, based on the abusive dads of the 1950s in his book, and how he didn’t think grandpa ever said he loved him,and he tried to be better by me. He was a parent for such a crucial part of my life when mom wasn’t, he’s always supportive

In the hallway I tell him that even being able to have this conversation makes him better than grandpa. The fact that it’s the hundredth hard convo we’ve had because he’s always there for me proves he’s a better father.


So I apologise for being neurodivergent and knowing I don’t react to things in the right ways, and him loving and supporting me anyway, and being queer, and needing help with executive function/adulting shit, he said the better for him, and what was normal anyway. I was like well Tracy Karen Nicole (straight married with multiple kids house owning cousins) are more than me, for sure. He told me about Tracy having to take a business trip so heather’s got to take paisley to a dance recital because pat doesn’t know how to do makeup. I said that’s dumb because when your kid is into a thing, you support it even if you don’t actually give a shit. You go to the recital, the sportsball game, the choir robotics chess club. Dad knows endless reems of fandom shit he doesn’t care about for me. Dad said no, pat loves the kids and Jenna’s husband is like that too, they just don’t know how, and it’s just like no, you learn if you care. Dad learned about Buffy and hp and at and hr now. I want to roll my eyes and be like the incompetence of men, and the willingness of hets to allow it but dad never fucking did. It’s not the men or the hets it’s just bad people and good people.