Gospel 345 ~Good Morning B, Sorry~

Last week I talked about “sleepytime,” and this one, I’m still as lazy. Only more to the point of what it was/is like to wake up with somebody that loves you. Other than Braxton, I can’t say I have much experience. Good Morning B, Sorry, but rest now

Friday, June 11, 2021

Gospel 345 ~Good Morning B, Sorry~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, so how’s that for waking up with gratitude. I suppose I’m grateful for sleeping even more.

As always, a note that I’m not suicidal, but if I could sleep forever… Again I woke up at 4:00 AM, said my stomach hurts, and fell back asleep. I didn’t have anything pressing, hmm. Braxton wasn’t here to step on my face. His fur wasn’t all over the place. I’m sure he would have found something to bark at by now. I’d take those mornings over this, I know. I’m sorry I didn’t appreciate them more. Inspector Echo is one to hear my confessions. Braxton is somewhere resting upon the perfect comfy spot that he’s still digging into, bet. The last day he was with me, he was lying beside me, but we’ll get to that. Oh great, now my tears have found comfort.

I would tell B III I was sorry before I even told him good morning. Then, of course, I’d follow with another apology. Sorry for waking him up, a morning with meds, then yep, sorry B, but keeping you alive…

On my off days, he would be the one waking me up for his morning walks. I was the lazy one, and he would jump around until I was ready to go. It’s a toss-up to eat or walk. There were, of course, those nights when I was writing, thinking, “I’m Gonna Be Somebody.” I already was Lady Sophia. I am B III’s Daddy, but those were late bedtimes. If I had done something, it would have been worth it, but here’s a question. Where am I this gray morning?

Like Friday, January 29, 2021, I’m sitting in bed reviewing a story, only it happens to be Braxton’s now. Gospel 212 On The “Will” Succubus… what the fuck, ignorance, insanity. At the same time, I was petting Braxton, telling him I was sorry he felt sick. I called Braxton’s vet after four hard days at the Day Job, never once thinking about THE END. Lying in his own bed that Sunday as I held him, seeing his little brown eyes fight for life. I’m sorry, it’s okay, you can rest, the words flowed from me. I wish I had told him, Sleepytime, Night, Night Braxton, Sweet Dreams. But, I do now, knowing that as the alarm rings, I’ll walk downstairs saying Good Morning B, Sorry.

131 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

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 338 ~B The Dream Within~

I’d sing to B plenty but a lullaby before “sleepytime.” He was always busy guarding the house, protecting me in my laziness, or stuffing his face. Sleepytime was the only time we dreamt together. Then one Wednesday afternoon… B The Dream Within.

Friday, June 4, 2021

Gospel 338 ~B The Dream Within~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now. But instead of dreaming about those billions, new books, or my boy, last night was terrible.

Might I write out some of my dreams tomorrow? Today, of course, being Day 124 is all about Braxton’s dreams. If my pictures are any indication, I watched B III sleep a lot. It’s the least I could do as he did the same for me when I would come from the Day Job. No wonder I’m so exhausted. Besides, you know, manual labor. I don’t have anyone watching my back anymore, so I have to be on guard. When I was awake, it was my turn; no words necessary, yet I still ask the question. What are you dreaming, Little B? Vittles mostly? Lady Sophia, you don’t know how badly I want to believe that. He had his good dreams but also some nightmares.

As I said before, I could tell you about my nightmare. Usually, I only sleep that of the dead. Hell, at least Braxton and I could be together, other dreams I’ve written down before. Having escaped work yesterday, I wish I would have slept more. To see B on duty, I’ll always miss him on his perch. There were the days he would lie out in the sun as I worked downstairs. I continue to carry his pillow and place it under the table. Yet today, I’m working on the couch, partly because my shoulder hurts and after my betrayal. Now I used to think B III was pretty annoying when he woke me up, but you know what? If anything, he stopped my nightmares.

Most of them appear in the daylight now. The first is always a world without my son. There is no waking up from this but only a feeling against my ankles; an imagined bark echoed. You know when everybody wants me to shut up, there’s this one like yesterday that asks. So where’s that little puppy of yours? Braxton passed away; beats I’m a murderer. Cause what am I now? I can’t say I’m a monk anymore after 161 Days. Once again, my attempt at asexuality started before Braxton’s death. I don’t deserve to feel good, and even after the moment it happened, “Stuff And Thangs.” There was my shame. I hope Braxton was resting and not watching his Dad fall. B The Dream Within

124 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

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 331 ~B In Present Tense~

Boys and their toys; B was never a toy and usually not a dog. He is my son, and the things he liked most he could eat. He had lots of toys, though, and I told myself after Christmas, I’ll make it up to you when you’re 16 but then… B In Present Tense.

Friday, May 28, 2021

Gospel 331 ~B In Present Tense~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I would buy Braxton a ton of toys. A swimming pool full of fries

Before that, there was Blue. Well, we never gave the big blue dog a name, but he was Braxton’s fifth friend. I suppose, like any father, I wanted to teach my son to fight. Who am I kidding, right? I saw a big dog a few days ago and spent another minute in the car. B III made me brave, but I’m also a black man living in America. After a while, it wasn’t safe to walk with Lucille, a plastic bat, or even a slightly skinny stick to protect us. I don’t mean to sound “political.” Long story short, I saved us from pets but B. That boy was my salvation from people. So we sat there wrestling; he’s undefeated against the Blue dog.

Braxton grew up as growing boys do. I never had the heart to get him neutered. Another part of my Bargaining (Five Stages of Grief). If I had done so, perhaps he would still be alive today. Hell, sometimes I was, as the song goes, “a motherfuckin’ P-I-M-P,” for B. Plenty of people wanted him to breed. A Pure Blood Deer Head Chihuahua, in case you’re wondering why I’m such a dog snob now. If I had to do it all over again, I would have liked to meet B’s kids like I wanted him to love mine. He only had a stick of TNT. “I’m not crazy or anything,” it was a plush toy he had for his Stuff and Thangs. Indiana Gone saw

She also saw B III in love with his favorite toy, a red monster hairdryer plushy she gave him. It was his favorite toy in the whole wide world. He could smell her on it, and every so often, I get a whiff of him. Of all the toys in the world, it was the one I placed beside him. Now I’m going to cry again, remembering him lying in his bed, my arms around him. There was my black hoodie lying in his bed and that toy. If he had a choice, the choice I took from him, B would have given the toy to me for my comfort. He knew before I did.

No toy for Christmas or Birthday… B In Present Tense

117 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

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 324 ~Go To Bed B~

Right now, I want to go back to sleep and see if I can find Braxton. Hell, John Wick got another dog, and I dreamt I was Mr. Wick last night. It’s better than the dreams of my actual crime, and B III can’t wake me up anymore. “Go To Bed B.”

Friday, May 21, 2021

Gospel 324 ~Go To Bed B~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but I can sleep without the money. Dare I say without the girl? But there’s Braxton.

Besides my tattoo, I’ve been thinking about getting one of those “Cuddle Clones.” Still, I haven’t been able to decide between B III sleeping or being awake. Braxton slept well. Okay, so that’s something you tell a baby, “oh, you’re such a good sleeper.” I’ve told the story of Braxton being my “pancake” and curling up in my lap as I sat working on stories. The Wednesday before he died, he didn’t take his post at the corner of my bed after I got back. He didn’t crawl on my legs, looking towards the door. B cried and my response. Father of the year says, “Go To Bed B,” like he hadn’t been sleeping all day. Still, he crawled under my arm, staying beside me.

There will always be the story of when I thought I left him outside all night. Of course, I didn’t. Only I was out running around in the morning while Braxton slept in his house. Any day when I was leaving, he would formulate a plot to get me to stay. He knew I wouldn’t leave him inside the bedroom. Denial, it seems, moving his bed and the dog gate. With the Day Job, Braxton gave up. It was too early even for him, or he knew I had made my choice like “Six: The Mark Unleashed.” The last free choice, the wrong choice Sophia. Yes, I’m still freaking out about the COVID-19 Vaccine. I’m not a man of faith; I deserve Hell… I’m there.

“I’d tell you to go to Hell, but I think you’re already there.” Jack Valentine

Because telling Braxton, he could rest either was an act of mercy or a fucking crime. I’ll tell the story of when I placed his water next to him. Braxton walked to its usual place. When he was dying, he wouldn’t sleep in the car. Braxton wouldn’t even lie down, not my son. Braxton fought for every single second of his life and what he wanted was to come home. Sometimes I’ll move his favorite toy to his spot on the bed, to the couch. I’ll keep it on my lap. Braxton was preparing me for “Times Like These.” I dreamt I was John Wick and Braxton was nowhere to be found. I slept longer, hoping when I woke… “Life finds a way;” “stuff and thangs.” Go To Bed B.

110 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

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 317 ~Ask Your Mother B~

Instead of looking for the perfect woman, the goddess, I’d like to think of a girl that would love Braxton as much as I do. I’m already crying enough for two, so let some woman kick my ass for what happened to him. “Ask Your Mother B.”

Friday, May 14, 2021

Gospel 317 ~Ask Your Mother B~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and it’s because I’m “creative,” or I like to think. Thinking about who Braxton’s Mom is.

She would have to be an early riser. I know I haven’t been the past few days. It’s going 8:30 AM about, which is super late for me. If there’s light in the sky, we walk him and me. Hell, I couldn’t even open the back gate a few days ago. It’s not me being sad, just the rain, hmm. Braxton would want her to be a better cook, not that he ever complained about mine. I can’t help wondering did all those McDonald’s fries have something to do with his passing. They last forever, you know. With all the food both B III and I shared, I killed him. Once again, I will never let go of that point. Then again, Mom blames herself.

Not that I would want Braxton’s Mom doing that. No, I am guilty. If she wants to blame me… It would be karma catching up to me. My Ma never blamed my “Father” for anything, and see how I feel about that man? To make B think the same of me, oh, that’s a crime, yep. On the other side of the equation, she’s not one of those “wait till your father gets home” types. Shall I imagine such love like my wife being here, and B runs from her to greet me? He chose me over everyone. He loves our kids, loves his Mom, but it’s Dad. I’m back. It took his death to turn me away from boobs, but my life… his world.

Only one woman outside the family held his sway, and that’s my second best friend. I’ve said before how she had to let him walk all over her, sharing four months of food and treats. There was a cake for his birthday and presents. Braxton’s party was an incredible time. His last days though… no Braxton, I’ll carry you, I’ll get you more water, I’ll help you. If any mother could do better, I would welcome that rather than him dying in my arms ever. Ask your Mom to save you even if you hate me for the rest of your life, son. Men save gods all the time; that’s why they’re not gods. Dog spelled backward, and Mother is God. Ask Your Mother B.

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

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