Chronicle 021 ~The Letter B Moves~

What’s doing more blinking, the cursor on the page or my eyes. B’s who I miss the most right now, but that’s not what my book is saying. I can’t fail B this month as I did in January, but that requires me to get up and move. The Letter B Moves

Thursday, July 22, 2021

Chronicle 021 ~The Letter B Moves~

172 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Should I even try to tell you about mine? No, I haven’t even lived it.

Today is Tuesday, and I’m trying to stay ahead. Do you remember when you were sick? You don’t want to, right but let me get this out. If I could do it again, B III, I’d pick you up and rush you to Banfield Hospital right this second. Could they have saved you B III? Yeah, because I was much too busy. It’s been the theme of this week. There is so much to do, and when I have time, what do I do. Today I had to talk to two of the girls and get to writing your novel. We’ll get to that, but I believe you know what the answer is Triple B.
You’re not sitting under the table or in my lap.

All the time in the world B, and money, Ha. How many times did you hear me talking about writing? Now instead of books, I want to go right back to bed. It’s a miracle that I even got to the table today. Of course, by the time you read this, I’ll be right back there. Yes, the Day Job remains horrible, which is one of the reasons I am writing to you today. It’s like anyone asking me there, “How are you?” I should say “Pissed” and then “Wait.” It’s only a matter of moments before THEY do something to fulfill such a prophecy. “Daddy, what about me?” I hear you, Braxton; I do, but like the novel, I’m writing. Nothing moves anymore, son.

If it hadn’t been 172 Days, I would think you left only yesterday. I was telling Dear Future Wife, the mom you’ll never get to know, that the tears I continue to shed are cleansing. Um, it’s like I’m in ice, nothing can get to me between, bed, boobs, and you B III it’s cold. Braxton sometimes, I melt, and I go everywhere. It’s as if I overflow, but then there’s not enough of me to fill up any glass. The bed’s not going anywhere, and neither are you. I miss being a monk; that’s how you always were, my Pancake. I haven’t eaten anything. I have to keep the cursor moving; I don’t want to fall even further behind. Trying, The Letter B Moves.

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Chronicle 014 ~B III And More~

Day XV now, and am I doing any better when it comes to my boy? I wouldn’t be asking that. If I had been 165 days ago? Yeah, Roman numerals aren’t my strong suit. I only needed to count to III before. Now I need 50,000 words for “B III And More.”

Thursday, July 15, 2021

Chronicle 014 ~B III And More~

165 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Sometimes I envy you not having to worry about what time it is, well until…

15 years 11 months. All you know is one day, there was a whole carton of fries for you and a bit of a burger. If your aunt was here, maybe she would make you a cake. Did I tell you I had lunch with her last week? I guess she didn’t want to make me too sad B III. That day she barely said your name Braxton, but I don’t blame her. As I said, you were a month shy of 16, and you would think I could give you this month. It was too fresh, last Camp NaNoWriMo, but I still got 50,000 words done. Now I’m lazy with 16 days to go. Braxton, I would apologize, but if I do that today…

Why only today? I have been telling you I’m sorry going on 165 Days with you gone. Hell 166 if we count the day that you left. I’m at the dining room table, and you’re not here, Braxton, on your pillow under it, waiting for me. What I wouldn’t give to speak to you B. Well, the COVID vaccine is free, or so I keep hoping. If I were to die… A dangerous concept I know, thinking about dying and all. Three needles helped you on your way, one to make sure, two to bring you peace, and the third sent you to the Rainbow Bridge. I got two Braxton. On that day, I said that “I got to Braxton.” I didn’t want your suffering.

You would have pretended always and forever if it stopped me from feeling this way. I’ve long since passed counting up the days from one stage of grief to the next. Only I’m never going to go into five. How could that ever be possible? Packing up your things B? Have you been watching me read The Man That Watched The World End? Ironic since I am that guy. You were about 79, and with how tired I’ve been, 82 sounds about right? Um, my point is, there is no way in Hell I could burn your stuff. B III they did burn you, yep. Wish I was there, Braxton. So yeah, another apology, how many is that which do nothing B III And More.

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Chronicle 007 ~B’s Dead To Writes~

VIII days into Camp NaNoWriMo, and yep, I’m writing about B III now. Well, damn, the last six months, and I’m already so far behind. The vaccine does cause fatigue, doesn’t it? I’m still alive, and with my second dose, who knows. “B’s Dead To Writes”

Thursday, July 8, 2021

Chronicle 007 ~B’s Dead To Writes~

158 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? I’m sorry for the title card if they ever make your story into a movie.

Your story or ours, in case you’re wondering where I’ve been today. 2,200 more words down, and I know you’re thinking to yourself, Daddy should be further along than this. Do you remember the last NaNoWriMo we did, and we stayed out in the chill? Well, I did, but you didn’t want to leave me alone out in the darkness but Braxton, writings my life? Then why was I at the Day Job when you needed me the most? I despise those people, and then I came back, told you to shush, and went to sleep. You stood guard always. Braxton, I don’t mean to be rehashing all this, but I was working on your novel again. It’s still untitled. Beyond Boys: Braxton Barks Bradford.

No disrespect to the LGBTQIA community (that’s a lot of letters, ain’t it)? Anyway, all my titles seem to come off as GAY. Speaking of not, I talked to your aunt a few days ago, B. Have you seen her?

The last time Carolina Bound was around, I ordered onion rings at lunch, and you were peeved; I didn’t bring you anything. It’s the little stories like that which might make a good book, Braxton. That’s if I ever get it done, and I will; it’s for you after all. So was the album I never finished, and what about my tattoo? Oh, I’ve had my run-in with needles B with COVID-19 and all. I’ll never forget that you saw me through what THEY think was the worse year. 2020

2021, the only year that beats the one I was born into. Who knows B III? In all honesty, I was hoping the vaccine would do its worst, poetic justice. I shouldn’t talk like that. Living, I am alive, more like existing. But you saved my life more times than I can remember. I wish you could tell me what you want from me. Every day I remember the vet and that look you gave me as they told me the worse news ever. Smarty-Pants. Braxton, you said, “I want to go home. Can we go home, Daddy?” I wrote my name, and you ended up in a box. Will a book be any better? My B’s Dead To Writes

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Gospel 365 ~A Year B Longing~

At the closing of the year… well, the blog year. To think I started this over a bitch four years ago and the last five months, I’ve been mourning over a son of a bitch. I am talking about my son. A Year B Longing, but I’ll finish his book this month.

Thursday, July 1, 2021

Gospel 365 ~A Year B Longing~

151 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? I want to believe this day is monumental. I’ve been at this for four years.

Only this is the first one talking to you like this. It’s been five months, and to think, when I began, this was all over some bitch. Is that offensive, B? Seeing as how you were the son of some bitch I never met before, you became my boy. She was on the Rainbow Bridge. How I wonder what you told her about the family that took you in. What is there to say about your father? Do you even miss me at all? Fifteen years, four of them sitting here, holding you in my lap, watching you sleep on your pillow. Remember Outside, Inside. That would be my idea of Hell, you go out, you come in, and you never stay with me, B.

Today I’m hoping I’ve started my book for you. How many NaNoWriMo’s did you sit through, Camp and all? How do you think I learned to Time Travel so well, seeing how today is Sunday? I did picture a better life for us but seeing we’re talking now, I’m pissed.
It would always be something at the Day Job, talking to your granddad, or “I don’t know, it’s just the way I am.” To you, I was Daddy, and that will never change. You weren’t waiting for me to change but only to come home. I should’ve gotten here sooner. However, I was always stuck in the past. You saved me from the present, and I longed for the future. Not for me but you.

For four years, Braxton I had rules to get by with Lady Luna. I so hoped to obey them, ha. I talked to the woman I believed would be your future Mother, Dear Future Wife. Inspector Echo showed me I would know no greater sins or shame than losing us. Dammit, I killed again with Dirty Diana because I would rather talk to you, Braxton. Today I don’t want to be mad at myself. Well, not in failing to write your story B III, okay.
When I speak to Lady Sophia, Friday, I want to know that four years mattered. Preparation to honor you, Braxton Barks Bradford, the one I love more than anyone else.
I love writing. I love you. A Year B Longing

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Gospel 358 ~Okay, B Father’s Day~

It’s not a holiday I was fond of like my Emergence Day, the day I got my Day Job, and now the day that B left me. It’s been 144 days, and still, I refuse to say “another day” as they’re not meant to be. Okay, B Father’s Day… love is all I needed

Thursday, June 24, 2021

Gospel 358 ~Okay, B Father’s Day~

144 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? I’m sorry I can’t be honest about mine. It’s been one of those weeks, remember?

Neither of us wants to, isn’t that right. All the days of your Daddy hating the whole damn world and then? Braxton, I should have known, and now I find myself here alone. I missed your granddad’s birthday. I can’t tell you what I did Sunday; it’s still Saturday today. Sonless for a Father’s Day in how many years? I want to say fifteen, but when did you become mine. Technically I was your uncle, and your grandma made me your brother. When I was, gifted this place, I looked at you as my best friend, my little Cerberus Braxton. One day it clicked, and it wasn’t the money, the medicine, or the munchies. I’m a father, you’re a son, and there was only that.

You didn’t have to get me a damn thing because, at the end of the day, you just got me. I swear you picked up my virtues and my vices. I’m scared of people; you were scared of other dogs. Um, I never heard about all your time at The Dog Stop, making new friends. I’m one for boobs, and then I had to explain to you about my second best friend, hell women in general. I don’t like asking for help and expect people to get out of the way. You didn’t ask for help, but at night you’d stand by the bed like, “Um, Dad, lift away now.” These holidays have been crueler than any, and I’m not able to acknowledge the sameness.

Sameness, indifference, the thought of “Every Day Is Exactly the Same.” I rather say I “Had a bad day again.” If it’s at the Day Job that’s certain, Ha, like me breathing, you being gone. How about things being right between my father and me? That will be the day. Braxton, I never thought much of Father’s Day though I want to be again someday. I’m not sure about fur babies, but all kids should grow up with a friend like you were to me. Then ultimately, they’ll ruin their lives. Okay, that was harsh, and I’m sorry, but even my “Emergence Day” can’t compete with January 31st. The day I was no longer a Father. The day you left. F… Okay, B Father’s Day.

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Gospel 351 ~A B Plus Effort~

Every day is a chance to learn something new or to wallow in bed all day long and what have I been choosing. All the focus on education and the truth; Braxton was never one for formal “Dog Training,” but he always gave his best. A B Plus Effort.

Thursday, June 17, 2021

Gospel 351 ~A B Plus Effort~

137 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? It’s pretty early here, and I didn’t get up on time. When the sun’s up…

Besides not walking, I can’t say I have been putting my best foot forward in anything else. It must have been worse for you, four paws and all, ha. A joke, a fact, just some chit-chat? Now that’s one thing that’s been bothering me lately. I need background noise. Your paws aren’t pitter-pattering down the stairs ever again, no matter how much I pretend or plagiarize. Hell, I bet the first necromancer was some guy wanting his dog back. So you’re no longer wondering what my obsession with the Dead is on every given Sunday. Yes, I still watch The Walking Dead. Sometimes there aren’t even tears for you. An effort to live perhaps without your tiny, tiny paws B III. I don’t like it.

I want to be your Pa again. Of course, I’ve never stopped as I am always and forever. Only who is a Daddy without a son? I should go and ask my “father,” but I don’t have the nerve. I’m sure by now that I have missed his birthday, not that I care, being fair. However, I acknowledge the man tries as I did and do with you. B, he’s a better man than me, considering my age, and you were 15 on the cusp of 16. Should I go and try to find that in dog years? Doesn’t matter, but you are always my little boy. I’m Braxton’s Pa. Someday, the world will know, but what have I done so far in 137 days.

My life has been on pause, and when I dare to want and play again, it’s like, what have I done? I failed, that’s what. When I was a boy, instead of studying, I was doing anything and everything because my life was a game I didn’t want to play. You were real B III. Only I thought I needed to give so much effort. Better yet that you would wait for me, with all the time that I waste. Even now, we started talking at 5:50 AM, and it’s been an hour. I’m not trying to rush. Seriously B being honest, I’m giving you the best that I got. But F wasn’t for father, D for Daddy. If I’d given A B Plus Effort

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Gospel 344 ~Remember To B III~

Remember to Be Free of guilt, to Breathe Free, and damn I should add more beef to my diet, but no, and why not. B III isn’t here anymore, and that isn’t my freedom; it is his from the pain, and I need to know that. “Remember To B III.”

Thursday, June 10, 2021

Gospel 344 ~Remember To B III~

130 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Mine B III begins with a promise I made to apologize to you. I’m sorry.

Be Free of the guilt I carry… NEVER. Even before we started talking today, I burst into tears. At least I’m free of my bed this morning. I made it up, if only to feel like I did ok now. God knows it wasn’t being your Daddy. A strange Dad joke it is when I told you to Be Free, B III? You’d come back. My B had to run the yard. So am I a prison warden, my son? A mourner, a missionary, trying to regain monk status. Things can’t and will not go back to the way they were. This was your place, and I know you’re in a better place now, B. Braxton, I keep telling myself that as you sit there?

Breathe Free, as now I struggle still crying a bit. If I could drop dead right now… You don’t want to hear that, but what I wouldn’t give to listen to your paws or your barking. Anytime I attempt to clean up, I wonder how many of those dust balls have remnants of your hair? It’s why I focus on the bathroom. Only I had to wash the rugs. Ants invaded. As I said before, I’m in prison, but the thing is, I was freer with you than anybody. The best times of my life were lying here reading everything with you jumping my belly. The last free breath I ever took was the one that became your last Braxton. Now every single one costs.

Beefy foods… I should be buying plenty more. If you were here, I would be eating better because you would want me to share. Voluminous vitamins, vittles… vitriol. Braxton, it might not be a lack of sleep but of any decent sustenance, and I continue ticking after 130 days. I’m thinking more with my heart than my stomach. I keep pushing you back in. Then here I go vomiting all of this only to find another picture of you, A thought of you to sustain me for a bit longer. You’d prefer fries B III. Jonesing onion rings. Which hurts more. Well, the first reminds me to share; the latter reminds me I am alone. Neither replaces love. Yet I try. Remember To B III

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Gospel 337 ~Digital Sets B III~

What if Braxton isn’t getting these “letters?” He spent fifteen years, eleven months looking after me, and if he wanted a vacation, I get it. Is that what I’m calling it, the ticking clock until we see each other again? I HOPE. Digital Sets B III yep

Thursday, June 3, 2021

Gospel 337 ~Digital Sets B III~

123 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? To think I’ll get lucky and get to come home early. Work sucks and home…

These days the Day Job is worse. Here I am about to insult you like the mom you never got to meet. What I mean is, being here without you was not one of our walks. I wanted to be anywhere else but with the ASM and my general loathing for the company’s staff. Whoa, I should be careful B III. Noted you were usually asleep while I watched the news. So they were talking about some dude bad-mouthing his company. I usually did that when you were here, but now I’m talking to you like this? It’s best not to think about it. Hell, that’s all I ever do anymore is try not to think about it, Little B. Then again, there’s always you.

Would you have me not think about the 123 days you’ve been gone? I can’t help it, and I don’t ever want to forget. You can see that around my neck every day, my own collar in a certain way. So I come back and what, not think about you? With what I’m doing now? Destiny, Disgusting, Discovery, Dirty, and all thanks to my dog. My son, you will always and forever be that, Braxton. You died, and I don’t want to believe that January 31, 2021, was your time. Besides killing you, I had all sorts of disgusting ideas. But I found you B. On my video camera, even more photos of the two of us “happy,” maybe you. Now everything is dirty, tainted.

THEY say I should let you go, but here I am hoping that you’re not watching me. I want you to be happy and do whatever good boys and girls do on the Rainbow Bridge. Meanwhile, your memory is like me keeping a digital watch. I look, and there it goes, I killed you. I keep track of everything. My phone still buzzes three alarms dedicated to seeing you alive and healthy. So I’m crying again and saying Depression, never. Acceptance would be like owning an analog watch. It would require me to think for a bit, or maybe I’m just lazy, which explains why there is so much work to be done. All you are for the world to see. Digital Sets B III

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Gospel 330 ~Just A Minute B~

At least with the Day Job, every minute nets me something. The minutes I’m wasting with “Stuff and Thangs” isn’t helping. Only all those minutes I had with my son, where did they all go? “Just A Minute B.”

Thursday, May 27, 2021

Gospel 330 ~Just A Minute B~

116 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? I understand if you can’t bark right now. I’m pretty busy too, “stuff and thangs.”

It’s still funny… well, not, but you know what I mean. I have this whole empty house, and I turn into a monk. I don’t have to let you outside or wait until I get into the shower. Hell, I’ve started a whole new “project,” but I’m only sending off videos of better days, Braxton. Speaking of which, while I was looking up old material, and yes, I am always working on your album. It’s the reason it’s taking so long. Everywhere I look, there you are. I have videos of your baths and of you working on your pancake impressions in my lap, Braxton. What I wouldn’t give for one more of those. The last time you sat in my lap… again, not really.

The vet gave us time, but you were hurting. You were hurting that Friday, January 29, 2021. What I mean is that day, you chose to climb into my lap. The first time you asked me for something that I couldn’t give. To save you. Dammit, the minutes were wasted. Braxton, I’m not yelling at you, and I’ll never stop saying this is my fault. I know it B III. When you asked for a minute, it was my duty, responsibility, and honor to be there B. But was I?

I remember when you leaned against me as I brushed my teeth and I was scared for you. But no worries B III, I came back from the Day Job, and you were better and pretty hungry too. Popcorn’s good

I swear there aren’t enough hours in the day to love you. You know something; part of the reason I became a monk, ha-ha, is because besides getting to The Rainbow Bridge. I know that’s not how it works, but I’m thinking of all that time gone. I’m torturing myself. You never wanted my pain, and that’s why you didn’t come into the bathroom and lean against my leg again. You had the strength to make it to your water because you wanted me to believe you were okay. Triple B, you hid under the bed because I started freaking out. SIGH it wasn’t fair, Braxton, but I had my moments. 15 Years or 7,884,000 minutes and the month of January. Just A Minute B.

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Gospel 323 ~Point A To B~

A sharp-dressed man takes on new meaning with a needle in my arm. I didn’t get all spiffy when Braxton got his needle. Of course, I still argue whether it was for better or worse. He’s not suffering, and I’m not living so the point. Point A To B

Thursday, May 20, 2021

Gospel 323 ~Point A To B~

109 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? At least you’re alive, somewhere, my heart. The only reason to put it back together

What about a reason to go take a walk? I was barely able to cut the backyard a week or so ago. Are you still watching over it and me? You spent your life chasing me around only to finally catch me and say goodbye. Of course, who’s fault was that? B, I killed you. The point of a needle, no my friend, the tip of the sword. I’ve told this story to anyone who would listen. Hell, to those that don’t care to. My anger, rage, my wrath towards those who wished me ill. All so I could fulfill the promise to you that I’ll be back B, ok? Sorry if I’m sounding a bit like the Terminator; M Anime sent me something yesterday.

The point of the needle B III that I won’t be facing today as it’s too late. Yeah, it’s 7:00 AM right now, B, so my day is already shot to Hell since I didn’t wake up at 4:00 AM. Before you received your final shot, I should have fought for every single second, Braxton. I didn’t want you to suffer any longer than you had to. So why don’t I get out there and take my medicine as it were? Maybe I’m asking your permission to live, to die, make your choice. The one I took from you because what was the point of your life Triple B hmm? I’m not being mean because you chose to love me despite everything. I love you.

109 Days Later and 15 years 11 months before. How many times did the point of the pen or my finger touch on that? You won’t be forgotten, B III, not as long as I live. The point of the vaccine is living; it’s something to get back to you. Dying is us together always. What is the point of my life right now? It’s like I think at the Day Job when you’re going through Hell, you keep going. Will Smith said something to the tune of if you’re not making someone’s life better, then you’re wasting your time. Braxton, a purpose fulfilled. That might be plagiarism, but that would mean I’m published too. To speak of us, Braxton. That’s Point A To B.

Always and Forever,
Your Dad