Epitaph I

I'm going to post, in excerpts, an essay I wrote that I really liked and submitted to The Sun magazine. Hope you like it!

The note, taped haphazardly among fast food receipts, flyers and reminders on the cabinet door, caught my eye, largely due to the bold letters spelling out my name. Dad resented anyone prying into his things, so I waited for him to shuffle to the bathroom before approaching the cabinet.
As I watched Dad, I could also see him in my mind’s eye; his height, long arms ending in big, capable hands, always occupied. Engineer’s mind, quick and discerning behind guarded eyes. Age and illness had changed what once seemed immutable. It often came as a shock to see him now, slightly bent over, muscles and skin slackened, eyes vague. Alzheimer’s began tunneling through his brain at 62, insidiously seeping through memories, skills and traits, heedless and intent, a gray-matter natural disaster. Together, we shared his final fragments of lucidity.