It’s been two days since I found out my father died.
G looked into my mother and was able to find a post on her social media account saying that she was holding a funeral for him at some church in my childhood neighborhood.
It was being held today around noon.
I told Emilio that I didn’t want to go, but the more I think about it, the more I want to go. My father wasn’t the best father, but I still loved him and wanted the chance to say goodbye.
I rolled over in bed, looking at the clock. It was almost 11:00am, and there wasn’t much time to get ready for the funeral.
Emilio left not too long ago to tend to Rueben.
I got out of bed slowly, trying not to provoke morning sickness. I’ve been throwing up almost every morning when I wake up, but I’ve come to know that if I get out of
