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

Gospel 316 ~To B A Mom~

If I wasn’t so damn Depressed… please, God, no, I would say I could explode at any time. Hell, just saying that got me on some list, but I’m talking about the movie “Spontaneous” (2020). Moms might get mad at me, but what else is new. To B A Mom

Thursday, May 13, 2021

Gospel 316 ~To B A Mom~

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? How about how dare I, am I right? But for now, it’s just us two.

I was nowhere near ready to be your father and your Mom… Back when I was only your uncle, but you know how your Mom was. She called you her “real first baby,” yep. Braxton, I texted your grandmommy too. Now I didn’t send her anything, and doesn’t that sound familiar. I didn’t get you a Christmas present but for your sweet sixteen B… What would have been, but I thought we had more time. I’m sure that’s what your furry Mom thought too. Women and life um… Bitches, man

Again how dare I, but as the song goes, “That I’ll be standing right here talking to you.” Well, more like lounging around in bed. It’s been 102 days since the vet “said you sailed a big ship. Said you sailed away.” Well more poetically, like something from my playlist. Anything to cover up the silence B. I can’t remember crying in my Ma’s arms or any woman’s, to be honest. Right now, I can still feel you beside me. You’re lying against my legs, or you’re warm under the covers. There are clean clothes for you to indulge in. You could listen to me bitch to the ladies, Inspector Echo, Dear Future Wife, Dirty Diana. Of course, you replaced the last one, and you never met Dear Future Wife, aka your Mom. The book I’m going to write next NaNoWriMo could be 50,000 words of I’m sorry, remember that? Boys need a Mom, and I’m not being political there.

Last night after watching “Spontaneous” (2020), I felt pretty… Depressed. Today I don’t want to think about Depression, the fourth stage of grief. Watching all the Republican bull afterward didn’t help. I understand why my sister raised you watching Disney. Exploding wouldn’t be so bad, B III. It wasn’t so quick for you, I know, but five days and you were gone. Boom! When Mara was walking away covered in um, such and such blood, that’s how I felt, and I didn’t have my Ma or anybody to hold me. I bitch to you, Braxton. My bannerman, my best friend, my boy. Whoever would have been my wife and your Mom, damn, that’s asking everything.

I’ve shed enough tears for two. To B A Mom

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Gospel 309 ~Catching Our Tales Braxton~

Braxton was never one to go chasing his TAIL as he was always so busy following me. Like The Road, “Sometimes I TELL the boy old stories of courage and justice,” it was never many of those. “Catching Our Tales Braxton…” maybe the world will know

Thursday, May 6, 2021

Gospel 309 ~Catching Our Tales Braxton~

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Like last week when we spoke around this time, there was no story to tell.

If I do get fired, did, Hell Braxton, do you have any superpowers, supernatural? Have you become all-seeing, which explains why your Daddy is still a monk and a lazy ass? I have been talking to “everyone” today. I don’t know what the next day will bring for me ever. Now it won’t be the story of your resurrection, will it? As Tupac put it, “bury me in pieces cause they fear reincarnation.” My Old Man of all people said that your spirit could be calling out from another furbaby somewhere. I guess A Dog’s Purpose was plenty for me. You’ve seen what I’ve been reading nowadays. I would ask if you ever listened to me before to please avert your eyes and ears B.

You hated my phone as it took my attention away from you. Daddy always had a song for you, so let me sing. “Son, what you don’t understand, my words might never explain. So I am hoping that time will.” When I took a shower, though… Daddy’s stuff and thangs. However, when I wasn’t looking those things up, I’ve been researching what took you away. Oh, I still blame myself, no doubt, and I don’t blame you for wanting to get to the bottom of it. I read in Succubus Lord how the Shades relive their deaths over and over. Not saying you went to Hell, of course, unless Cerberus needed friendship or you’re saving me a spot by the fire. The two of us…

Didn’t I tell you I killed off your character writing for Camp NaNoWriMo? I swear if I write another book for the next one, it will be about us, I promise. Maybe I will include these letters with some poetry, and I’ve gotten into photography books. What do you think? Braxton, I haven’t been telling the happy stories about us these days because I explained to someone. Without your love, the void has been filled with hate, I’m afraid. Rage, I have no problem letting out, but if I had shown more love to you and less wrath to others, I wish? What I wouldn’t give to have you lying on my ass again as I come up with these gems of wisdom Little B.

I’m trying, and one day, hopefully Catching Our Tales Braxton.

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Gospel 302 ~What’s The B Ending~

I had no idea how bad Wednesday was going to be. The last one that was so… heinous, B III cried, but all I could do was pick him up, wrap him under my arm, and nap. It didn’t end there; the week only got worse but for a moment. “What’s The B Ending?”

Thursday, April 29, 2021

Gospel 302 ~What’s The B Ending~

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? I don’t really want to talk about my day, and I haven’t even lived it.

I’m sure you don’t want to talk about that Wednesday when I was feeling this way. Time-Travel, Monsieur B. If I had done more of it on January, 27 perhaps I wouldn’t be here April 29 without you. At present, though, it’s April 24, and you know why I’m speaking. As I tell you every AM, I miss you, B III. I still love you like pancakes, but B, I must confess. Shouldn’t I have done that Wednesday? God, I hate Wednesday and Sunday. Not the days’ fault but mine. So my secret… when I say I miss you, I can hear MILF Dos’s voice. If it’s any consolation, you would have liked her yabbos. Now I know you appreciated Indiana Gone’s, without a doubt.

I was thinking about getting her a picture of you or us. Braxton, she misses you, but that would be weird. Always and forever B, so as long as I’m alive, you will be too until we’re together again. I should try cutting off Youtube once in a while, but um, “He Lives In You.” It’s what I tell myself every day, B, and look at me crying again. I don’t know if I’ll ever stop, but I need something to round out the Anger, especially this week. It’s almost like the one I had when you…. Again I’m not even living this week as I write you B Squared. Tell me something, do I deserve to have this pain end? I finished Camp NaNoWriMo…

Hell, if I had published a book already like Cherry? I saw her this morning, do me a favor, B, and see if you can find a cat named Millie. Talk about “stalking,” remembering some English vixen’s cat on the Rainbow Bridge. I’m still a monk and your Daddy. Braxton, was that even funny? So many things ended when you left, and those that began? I want to stay in the same place, you know, but life has its ways. How dare I say that. You wanted to live and now… was I going to say I want to die? I don’t want to move, I know that. The way our story ended like something out of NieR: Automata. Always, Forever, What’s The B Ending?

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Gospel 295 ~Sounds Like B Leaving~

There’s no alarm for “mourning.” There’s no routine for it; otherwise, I would listen to He’s My Son by Mark Schultz 24/7. “What A Heavenly Way To Die” that would be. Instead, I take a second step in the five stages of grief. “Sounds Like B Leaving.”

Thursday, April 22, 2021

Gospel 295 ~Sounds Like B Leaving~

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? I don’t want to make you mad, although your Dad is all sorts of pissed.

I know. It sounds like I could be doing better. Today it sounds like I’m going to talk about the good, the bad, and the ugly. Braxton, you were the soundtrack of my life. I need you to know that. Do you remember the day I said, “Braxton get in the car,” and you hopped? The first day you chose me, not my sister, not the grandparents, only me. In their new house, you barked at them in the AM defending the gate for me. The best welcome I got from you was the day your granddad was here. You jumped into my arms, whining. Braxton, the most beautiful sound was nightly. When I would say, “Night, Night Braxton, Sweet Dreams.” You’d paw the bed, settle and sleep beside me.

I hated fighting with you. There were times you would growl at me or snap. I’d be all, “you’re in trouble, the longer you hide.” You and I would both listen for one of my alarms to go off so I could call you a “good puppy” again. Your nails were pacing the floor all alone. I would call you about your meds, but it was hard for you to get down the stairs. I would carry you for so many days, but once you were outside for a walk, you were young again. You couldn’t hop in the car anymore, and I couldn’t blame you; with my final act. No, it started the day you cried… I ignored you.

I swear I thought you were going to be okay. Wednesday, you cried. By Thursday, you were back. I didn’t need the doctor to utter the words that Sunday evening. “He’s Gone.” The worst sound in the world was as I held you there and I heard your final breath. Braxton, I sat there on the stairs that day and cried like I never have before. It was the fucking silence that was killing me. How dare I? I killed you, so my going to Hell is what I deserve. For 72 days, I lived in Denial, I continue, but then the fucking ASM, ANGER. That bastard took my “peace.” Down from Denial to Anger, Up from Treachery to Anger. Always Sounds Like B Leaving.

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Gospel 288 ~Braxton Is, Write Will~

I much rather be writing letters to my son than having to contemplate going to HR again today. How about explaining to my Olds about really becoming a starving artist? No matter how confusing, I do write better than I speak. “Braxton Is, Write Will.”

Thursday, April 15, 2021

Gospel 288 ~Braxton Is, Write Will~

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day; has your day begun? Is the Rainbow Bridge like the Rainbow Road a timed event?

It wasn’t a race you had to win, and yet you did. That explains why I’ve been listening to “Run Boy Run” on the playlist I made for you or me, us… I don’t know. While I have nothing to say to God, that line from He’s My Son echoes, “if you can hear me, let me take his place somehow.” It’s a simple request, and if I had written anything that touches others the way that line makes me bawl? I could have stopped you from leaving, you know, like putting up some gate. It wasn’t money or the doctors, Braxton it was time. Two years ago, I paid money to publish Gulp, and here I am two years later without you or anything.

You have been here for every story I’ve ever written. Well, minus that one when turkeys took over the whole world. Where has the hunger gone, I ask you? Wasn’t it right after you left? I signed the papers, and I turned ravenous, at least physically, from famine to feast. It still hurts, you know, even when I shop online. Hell, even before I do that, I sit here doing the budget again. Your needs are no longer part of the mathematical equation unless we count the water bill. That’s where your grandparents step in. I should be writing checks. Instead, I book shopping trips, and the food disappears. I buy books from infamous figures. The background is plagued with noise from unwatched shows, Youtube.

If writing paid for this, who knows where you would be my B; still alive? Instead, I continue to work the Day Job I hate and write lackadaisically at best. You would sit here with me, or at 2:00 AM, you’d be in your bed waiting. I’d come in, and you’d wake up to get in my bed. If I wasn’t going to be serious about my writing, the least I could do is spend more time with you. I Only Want To Be With You, like Janine and her Charlotte in The Handmaid’s Tale. Another book, a show, a concept more remarkable than mine. Yours ended but my library… Braxton, perhaps that was your last lesson. I am your father, a “writer.” To be all, Braxton Is, Write Will

Always and Forever,
Your Dad