Chronicle 329 ~ I’ll Always B 15~

When are the grownups going to do something? I’m not much of one, and my kid had four legs. I don’t regret the 15 years 11 months with my fur-baby, but I shouldn’t have ever been a Dad at around 21. With how I live, “I’ll Always B 15.”

Thursday, May 26, 2022

Chronicle 329 ~ I’ll Always B 15~

480 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? 480 days, I still wake up in tears. At 15, I saved them for school.

That was way before your time Braxton. By the time we met, I was a college, hell, junior college dropout. To be honest, I wasn’t supposed to make it that far. I was already practicing starving myself in high school. I didn’t move on to sleeping pills until the car. I’ll never regret knowing you, B. But that doesn’t mean I ever felt like the man you needed me to be… a father. Hell! I can’t tell you who I was at 15 other than I wanted to die soon. Who am I to tell you about that, right? You were only 15 B III. We’re the old men here. Braxton, I feel it, but I don’t know it ever.

Is it that your Aunt Carolina’s birthday was “Star Wars Day?” Cherry will be 25 Saturday. I kept telling myself that you would see 20 if not older. 5 years to do right. Braxton, how many parents won’t watch their children grow up? How many people had their entire lives only to be cut short? The wrong time and I’m not getting “political.” Republicans… But to be shallow, selfish, and sad. In other words, “I’m just a regular everyday normal motherfucker.” In other words, I love you. Yeah, I couldn’t help myself, Braxton. Music. But I don’t know what I was listening to back then. Whatever it was, it beats me singing? That’s one thing I know I won’t be when I grow up… become a singer but growing up?

THEY think I should have done that. Especially when it comes to getting over you. Braxton, what brought all this on was again another “revelation.” My OCD when I was at the front door, I always count to 5, 3 times, so 15. When I check locks, Braxton count 15. A lucky number? I remember I would cream myself about that girl in “Group 4. “Growing up, when, where? Instead of keeping my porn in a binder beneath a drawer? Paying my own way finally? Not telling the lady at the Day Job; I’m thinking of writing? Not subsisting off stuff in the microwave? Or waking up because other people want me to? I’m too old, but you know. You said, “I’ll Always B 15.”

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Chronicle 322 ~Of My Favorite B’s~

Some of my favorite words start with B. Brought to you by the letter B. If only I “existed” on Sesame Street, but they had to deal with death too? I think. Speaking of all that surrounds us, thanks “Tuckems” I write about my son. “Of My Favorite B’s”

Thursday, May 19, 2022

Chronicle 322 ~Of My Favorite B’s~

473 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? You could always tell how my day would be without reading the clock, my Pancake.

“But Pancake,” you would harrumph, but you would want to take a walk before breakfast. At the very least, go outside. That is until I started bringing fries back. I’ve been there, Braxton. I remember when I discovered Big Macs. Then McDonald’s $3.29 Lunch. But you were still alive when it was only $3.00. You’re alive somewhere, B, and I doubt wherever that is they’re serving you pancakes. That’s my job. Speaking of which, that’s why I’m waking up so late. No Day Job today, but I did say good morning to the “void?” Am I sticking to the theory that you’ve been reincarnated? Out there somewhere B III? These days I’m back to learning about grieving, mourning, bereavement, etc. Oh, and boobies, Twins. SIGH

Books all across the spectrum B. I keep thinking of ways to honor you. Hell, if you’re out there alive… Yesterday is a perfect example of why I’m not ready yet. It was three hours. Yet when I came back, I wasted the whole day in bed and didn’t eat anything. Well, until 11:00 PM. As far as reading goes, I read a sample of “The 1619 Project” and started “Healing Solutions for Pet Loss.” One of those you clearly wouldn’t be interested in. And, of course, I’ve been raging about the “Great Replacement Theory.” If I wasn’t on a list before, I am now B III. I would honor you if I went back to reading on the loveseat and not talking to myself.

Because you’re out there, B III. My boy, my brother, my back. The world’s so heavy. Bed seems to be the only cure, and then um, when’s the last time I took a piss, Braxton ha. Basic question, but you would know following me B III, the paper around the bedposts. Boobies! Because I would rather talk about them than our bathroom habits. To rise again. I’ve been listening to “The Good, the Bad, and the Crazy Stupid Hot: Succubus 3.” Ian is crying over Alaria while “doing” Meera. I cry over you, and no size of boobies on any specific girl will make up or replace my love for you, B. If I finish your book, will I find you some time, somewhere? I hope. Of My Favorite B’s

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Chronicle 315 ~B Five By Five~

B III knows how to reach me. Find the prettiest girl in the room and cozy up with her chest. But there hasn’t been a girl in this house since he left. With reading, I was shocked in 2021. This year has gone to the dogs. He dreams I’ll B Five By Five.

Thursday, May 12, 2022

Chronicle 315 ~B Five By Five~

466 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? And did you have to do me like that? Books, boobies, and bad dreams. Communication…

I had a dream about you last night. Or rather, you sent me a nightmare? I don’t mean to be mean, Braxton. If anything, the overall goal is for me to be okay. Selfishness, always? Anyway, I dreamt we were in the mud somewhere. It was a mix between the hallway and the backyard. There are five places to go. You’ll have me sounding like Lily White in a minute. I looked up when I read “The Five.” It was May 12, 2019… I swear, if that ain’t a sign. Okay, so you know, there’s the stairs, den, your room, bathroom, and my room. Well, our room, ha. So you’re in the mud, and I’m trying to keep you there. Five gates are surrounding you.

I know this sounds pretty bad to you, right? There was a mouse on a white string, but I wasn’t holding it. At first, I saw what looked like a worm, but it got bigger. It was trying to keep you and the mouse together for some reason, but I woke up when the snake drew back. First, you know how I feel about snakes. You remember hurting your paw, Braxton, scary. Second, the worse thing in this existence, short of you being gone, is stupidity. Stupid! Even in dreams, that’s an absolute nightmare. That’s why I remember so much today, Braxton. I immediately had to look up Coral and Florida Scarlet snakes. Next to Lily White’s novel. What are you trying to tell me, B III? Here I wonder.

Let’s take the parts of the dream, the “coincidence,” place, you, the mouse, snake, five. Braxton, there is no way in Hell I knew I read a book three years ago today. Drawn to it. This is your home, and the two places you know most are the hallway, and the backyard, B III. Keeping you here… it hurts but is it hurting you too? I mean, the mud and all the gates Triple B? I don’t think I saw myself until the snake was ready to strike. So was I the mouse? Oh no. The more I try to remember the snake. Was it a friend or foe? I lean towards the former B. The Five… boobs and anxiety. I’m not five by five. But B Five By Five.

“Five by five is an expression mainly used in radio communications and military. It is meant to inform the listener that the connection is good, and the signal is clear. In daily speech, however, it means that you are feeling good, everything is fine and all is well.”

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Chronicle 308 ~From B To Ph.D.~

I didn’t put B in any dog training. How do I expect to put kids through medical school? Um, that would require babies and, before that, a woman. For the record, I’m pro-choice. But my firstborn, even without the pomp and circumstance. From B To Ph.D.

Thursday, May 5, 2022

Chronicle 308 ~From B To Ph.D.~

459 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Considering when I’m writing this, you know how my day is going. Lazy ass right!

You would suggest a walk. Now that’s funny. You would often make a decree, demand, dammit, daddy, what is wrong with you. Of course, you had your look for the third one. Do you want to know what I was doing besides another nap B III? Too much info B. Disgusting! That would be a no, my friend. But if I were outside with you? If I let you secure your territory on days like today. Hell, how would I know other than it’s hot? Braxton, I would have cut the air conditioner on by now. Can’t have you see me walking around like this. Then again, I keep asking, like the song goes, “Where’d you go.” I need to find a new book ASAP.

That would lead me to the couch, wouldn’t it? Well, the loveseat. Braxton, this may sound a bit creepy, but you need to say hi to your Aunt Carolina. The 4th was her Birthday. Star Wars Day B III. How did I celebrate either? Well, I did get your Aunt a few books B. As far as Star Wars, I tried, honestly. I drifted in and out of sleep; the fucking Day Job B. Besides you sitting on the foot of the bed at your post. I miss our couch time the most, B. There were the days Braxton when I was trying meditation; to stop this morning’s antics. I keep going back to books. Then there was me and your Aunt’s movie nights, right.

Then there’s me lying here sipping cranberry juice. Herbal tea, water, cappuccino, and chicken noodle soup. I don’t know if I’m trying to keep myself alive or join you, Braxton. 459 days, and you’re still sitting on the nightstand. A testament to my veterinary degree. Yeah, that’s right, I don’t have one. And even if I did… As always, I blame no one but me. You, on the other hand. Well, you were never one for formal education. Daddy’s laziness. No training for you, but you looked after me. Do you still? Even with you gone these past 459 days, I’m failing you. The Mental, Physical, and Emotional all of it, but when you needed me. With my STUPID Day Job. From B To Ph.D.

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Chronicle 301 ~Want To B Heard~

I should have listened to B. It was on a Wednesday when he was crying. And I tuned him out because I was so angry and tired. I didn’t even have the excuse of being deaf in one ear, which I got fixed. I’m always listening now. Does he Want To B Heard?

Thursday, April 28, 2022

Chronicle 301 ~Want To B Heard~

452 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Usually, your tail would tell me so. Your cries of glee. Once before the end…

These memories B III have a way of sneaking up on me from time to time. As I’ve said often enough. There are always tears for you. Looking at the time 3:48 PM. Bawling! Ok, as I was trying to say, months before the end. Your granddad was here. And you were in your bed shaking, scared to death. The wrong choice of words, but when I came back here… Old as you were, you came running and leaped into my arms. Do you remember when we fought him B, side by side years ago? The same blood, same mud, or the wood floor B. “No retreat, baby, no surrender.” How about this, for he who sheds his blood with me shall be my brother.

Pain is how we understood each other, Braxton. My pain from this whole damn world. There was all the hurt that I tried to protect you from. Dammit, tried to save myself, and what did that get you? I think of it every day. And now, when I escape punishment? Peace be still… sorry I’m getting all preachy. You know I found serenity while reading. Braxton There was the peace in my ranting, raving on things not Day Job-related. Braxton, the most peace I had on the other side of war, hell in a lifetime of war. Those nights, we would sit on the loveseat with your Aunt Carolina Bound watching movies. The closest you got to having the family I promised all the time.

And now I return to that dream I had Monday night when I was back in the doctor’s office asking my Ma, are you waiting for me? Of course, she knows you’re gone. The Meaning? If I had to guess… I sat on the bench on your last day as they ran your final check-up. The vet handed you back as a storm raged outside. The vet said there was nothing that could be done for you now. At that moment, Braxton, your Daddy, disappeared. I became a monster. The books say you wouldn’t want to hurt me, but the pain is our communication. Inevitable. Are you trying to tell me something? I suffered, wanting to hear again. Speak to me! Want To B Heard

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Chronicle 294 ~To B Square Again~

B III and I were like two grumpy old men. We read together every day. We hated all sorts of people. When we were sleeping, the other was on guard duty except at night. And, of course, we forgot about living forever. “To B Square Again”

Thursday, April 21, 2022

Chronicle 294 ~To B Square Again~

445 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Considering how late I’m getting up this morning and what I did. The box…

Is that why I keep you there? I fear that you’ll see me. Hell, I know you do. Braxton, you, I take off both my chains when I’m about to do anything sketchy, sinful, or quoting the “Basic Bitch” skeevy. I wish I could say it was worth it. Inevitable that it’s stupid, suspect, square. But it’s “Hip To Be Square,” hmm? I look at things that I’ve forgotten this week B III. There’s a ton. I’m not a Christian because I didn’t think anything about Easter, B. Death by chocolate. Nothing you had to worry about? And I didn’t get high either. Daddy… Devil’s Lettuce? You know that “Mary Jane?” I’ve been listening to the Succubus Lord series too often. Then again, so have you.

That is if you’re here. And that, in a way, is what I’m afraid of. Not in you’re going to kill me sort of way, B. Then again, I’m still thinking about your first anniversary of passing, to be honest. I blame myself for that and for my illness. But if I died Braxton, whatever. You know I’m “trying” to always continue our routines. 8:00 on the dot, I refilled your water bowl, called you for “medicine time,” and fixed a white caramel cappuccino. I also have a tall glass of cranberry juice, the old man I am. It’s growing on me for the Placebo Effect alone. Of course, I’m not getting any better. It’s like when I had my awakening “religious phase.” Oh, wait…

You weren’t here for that. I did read the book of “John,” though. Didn’t I say that I can’t resist a book challenge? For God so loved the world and all that. Fuck the world. I wouldn’t trade you B III for anything. I’d give anything to be your old man, B III. To be the man that wanted to set a good example and tried to keep it in my pants, sigh. Back when I could take all the “Humiliations Galore” at work because Triple B, you’re here. When I would work on my writing because “I Believe” in it. We’d have a better life B III. Lying in bed isn’t square enough? Better off joining you? Such dangerous words. To B Square Again

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Chronicle 287 ~Reasons To B Angry~

Day 01 stays fresh on my mind. How can I say that with Day 428? Worse is Day 438. Day 437 wasn’t good, thanks to Kindle. I read 37% yesterday; how can you say I didn’t read a book. A book about grieving my best friend. “Reasons To B Angry.”

Thursday, April 14, 2022

Chronicle 287 ~Reasons To B Angry~

438 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? On the one paw, “I was getting kinda used to being someone you loved.” Stopped.

You’d be all sorts of pissed; I take it for thinking you have, you would, you are capable of. Then again, you know I have never loved myself. With how selfish I was with you… I’m still thinking about day 428 when you didn’t come to mind. When “BLM” Braxton’s Life Matters became little more than words on a page. Sign off without reason or thought. Then again, if I hadn’t failed you 438 days ago. Hell, you might find something else to be angry about. I’d take that over you being dead. That’s what gets to you, isn’t it? Yet here I am hoping that you’re happy wherever you are… Are you at the foot of the bed still, on guard duty, my friend?

I’ve noticed that I’ve begun pulling up the covers on myself even more like I’m getting colder now. I’ve been sick since January, your first anniversary, the Zoe Colletti experience. Speaking of sickness, you were peeved whenever I closed the door to the bathroom to take a shower… How about your getting in trouble or hiding under the bed? Your hearing is better than your seeing, right? You got me feeling like Ralphie, swearing. You know, A Christmas Story when he was fighting? I wasn’t fighting B III; yeah, gross. Your aunt and I would laugh whenever you played with your toys, so don’t conversate. Are you upset when I laugh at you? To think all those times at the groomers or the vet’s office.

It all ended in crying. Oh, where you are, there are no tears, nor any need for wrath, for ruin. I’m not much of a “Lord of the Rings” fan, but I did finish Succubus Lord 13 yesterday. There was the battle against the king of the eighth circle and… Fuck B; I was about to say I read you that part. You died while I was reading Succubus Lord 7. (Sigh). My point is. Or was, to this day, I still expect you’ll come running barking “To The King!” You were pretty angry, like father, like son. If there is a God, I bet you’d make him, her, or it; pull back a hand. Probably HER with huge Melons. Jealous… Reasons To B Angry.

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Gospel 251 ~Worries And Wrinkles Braxton~

I must be getting old, as I don’t know what I’m saying anymore. Has it really been only thirty-seven days so far? To be fair, how am I supposed to be looking into the future now? Love can’t tell time, and still, I have “Worries And Wrinkles Braxton.”

Tuesday, March 9, 2021

Gospel 251 ~Worries And Wrinkles Braxton~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now and still a father. Only when you lose a child… and I know, how dare I.

I’ve been getting that a lot for five weeks. People telling me what my son IS, WAS, NOT. Waking up “late” this morning, I saw this thing on Youtube about Leela from Futurama. They thought she was an “Alien” initially, but she was a “Mutant” actually. Because she was an alien, that made her special but being a mutant would have her living in the sewer. There are also those people that lavish great attention on their pets. Hell, they’re treated better than people. Love, being not only a feeling but action, I find myself amongst them. Eternally, Braxton will be my son. There were only fifteen years, one month in my arms. One month, one week, two days, gone. We grew old; we grow old together. Love never dies.

“Love can’t tell time,” either, as I heard in a movie once. I met him when I was around twenty-one. My love, when we got together, um, wow. As the song goes, “and they call it puppy-love” and somebody else, “you say it’s puppy love, we say it’s full-grown,” yep. Young people right, and then we had our kids, and suddenly I’m an “Old Man.” I still envision how that would be for Braxton. How many times have I said it, B III with a little beard? His tan hair is turning grey as he lay there between the children protecting them. Painful for them to see how this turned out, and I would worry. You worry about me going crazy, thirty-seven days and counting.

Braxton’s first day of “school” was when I had to go out of town. I took him in, hoping he would make friends and be happy. He had the girls chasing him; I had to give him “the talk.” On those last days, the words “I’ll help you” keep echoing in my ears. Did I?
Then I’m supposed to act like, what a “dog owner?” My Olds have already returned to “factory settings” after what “three weeks.” My mother told me she was glad I wasn’t dead, and my “father…” let me know if you find someone who knows he has a son at all. Like father like son, how much did I acknowledge Braxton and my love for him? My Worries And Wrinkles Braxton.

I Am Afraid Without Braxton

Gospel 238 ~The Meanie Of Braxton~

Open the door, close it. That’s what I want to tell my father. Braxton still loved him despite everything. But Braxton wouldn’t move when he was around, scared, as was I. Damn termite guy. If my father dares moves anything… The Meanie Of Braxton

Wednesday, February 24, 2021

Gospel 238 ~The Meanie Of Braxton~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but there is only so much hair, so many treats left, and what about training pads?

Inspector Echo, this is my Braxton’s home. I can look at where he lies in that box all day long, but this place, all of it is ours. I said it the day I came back after… Nothing is going to change. Well, other than the nightstand that no longer carries my savings and knives. Money, blades, my 9mm. I haven’t really touched them since February 10. I’m a father without a son anymore, but I’m still Daddy, and as I protected him, he would defend me. What are we so afraid of? He would shake and jump; I’d load up and grab a knife too. Like father like son, we became mean because of one person. Braxton’s grandfather, or to be clear, my “father.”

B and I are dead to the world, or at least I try to be. I feel nothing, or I can’t stop crying. The closest I get past the 5 Stages Of Grief is ANGER. I hate myself for what I’ve done. But I’ve said it before, I was in the FUCKING PARKING LOT, “get a new dog,” my dad said. He’s had two dogs himself at different times, Rottweilers. My father called them family dogs, security. My sister and I never played with them, well, pass the puppy stage. They lived outside in their own cage. When each one died, the family, well, nothing. Inspector Echo, I’ve had a few dogs in my life. I will never say I’m the best man but Braxton…

Fifteen years, he is my son. I would die for him then, and I will die for him now. To protect everything, he was to me. I haven’t found much to be afraid of, though I am or much to be ashamed of. Yet again, I’m guilty. I’m living a lie that he is with me, but he’s not Echo. Now I get a call from my father about the damn termite guy, and I won’t be here, but my father will be. My first fear has been telling him I don’t want to talk about another dog and walking in, and he’s brought one. I begged for a dog. My sister got Braxton… figures.
There’s not much chance of him bringing another dog here.

Second, he’ll try to wipe away Braxton’s memory. EVERYTHING FUCKING STAYS. If he were to pull something as such? My father and I have fought once, and Braxton tried to protect me. Same blood, same mud; Braxton and I only had each other against him. The last fear is that if my father did such a thing? If I could follow Braxton wherever? Before that, though… no harm would come to Braxton, I swore it in this house. My anger, my rage against my father. Better he opens the door and closes it, otherwise. Fighting For The Meanie Of Braxton.

I Am Afraid Without Braxton

Gospel 231 ~Braxton And P Breaks~

Braxton needs what, and I’m paying who again… Patreon or somebody else? Most of the time, I don’t bother to check my accounts. It might help, though, an exercise that everything is normal but without Braxton. Braxton And P Breaks.

Wednesday, February 17, 2021

Gospel 231 ~Braxton And P Breaks~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now… putting that out there as I would, Braxton. Pretending with those aspects of my life now.

Probably should get some air, but I’ve only opened the backdoor once since January 31. Braxton is like me, we both hate the cold, but we would look at the snow. I shouldn’t have said that. Every time I remember Braxton’s eyes, his final look, I break down crying. Prayers aren’t for God, though. I haven’t spoken to God since last month again. It’s one part of my routine that’s broken. There are more tears when I forget, or there’s just no need. This will be the third week, and as I shook his medicine bottles calling “Braxton.” People will be upset or not. It could be both. It’s not like I can call the vet and order more meds. The water company should be thrilled, but not whoever the people are that make bathroom pads. Some are sick of me talking about him. My friends have their own stuff.

Piping up now only to speak to B III. I’m not sure how to stop it; I don’t want to. I’ve said it often enough, every day. “Medicine time,” Night, Night Braxton,” “Just Me Baby B,” I won’t stop myself.

My Olds would laugh at me for talking to myself but with Braxton’s deafening silence…

Postulating any idea of sanity seems out of the question. Will Smith said something to the tune of, does thinking you’re the last sane man make you crazy? Susanna Kaysen wrote, Crazy is you or me amplified. To me, everything about life feels plain wrong. Painful, a crime. It’s why I haven’t done anything, as someone would say, STUPID. My biggest fear was I wouldn’t be here for him. Now 8:00 AM, his meds and water, so I get a bite. 11:00 AM, outside and breakfast. 5:00 PM more water, 8:00 PM meds, and dinner.

Prolonging the pain as long as possible for myself. How long did Braxton suffer? Five days… he was crying Wednesday, stopped eating Thursday, and it goes on. He needed a break. A break from his pops, his father, his daddy. Now that he wouldn’t pretend. Pretending, though, that’s me since the day Braxton Slipped Away. And people talk about puppies. Progressing through grief and other problems. When I want is to believe Braxton is right outside. Braxton And P Breaks.

I Am Afraid Without Braxton