Anchor point.

My boss is dying. Right now he’s lying in his house and going through the last stages of aggressive brain cancer. Surrounded by his family he is breathing his last breaths and I am heating a burrito.

This is surreal to say the least.

We had a staff meeting at work today and were told that he had only days left, that the company had been sold and that there would be a take over by a larger company whose job it is is to eat other smaller companies. None of this matters.

When I think of my boss dying I think of an old king dying on the throne, only he wasn’t old. He’s only ten years older than me.

It’s so fucking weird and sad and scary. There is nothing that anyone can do. How many words can you say, are awkward gestures and silence a substitute?

I can’t stop thinking about it, its like an avalanche. I have no anchor point, I am buffeted by thoughts and emotions and before I can even deal with them more come. I can’t think straight, I found myself singing ‘who let the dogs out’ for no apparent reason and I keep shaking my head as if to clear it.

I wonder how I will sleep tonight. Probably ok. And the thought of that kills me. Should I be wailing, gnashing my teeth, should I be driven mad by grief and pounding at my breast? I haven’t cried. I probably won't, although it would be nice to.

When I think about going into the store tomorrow I will be all the more aware of everything around me. Everything that is there he designed and built, standing at the counter I will say to myself, ‘He put this here”.

It will seem very empty for a long time.

When I was transferring my burrito from the tray to my plate I was so absent that I grabbed the hot tray with my bare hand. My mind is elsewhere at the moment.

I am going to miss him.