# On Losing a Father The rhythmic drum of the oxygen machine from down the hall taunted him as he tried to escape into sleep. He lay in bed staring at the glowing stars that his dad had stuck to the ceiling so long ago. He always thought there would be more time. Why didn't he pay more attention during the countless projects with his dad. Moving away stole so much time he could have had. His son lay sprawled out next to him warm and full of life. His daughter and wife in the room next door. Five months until baby number three. Is there any way for them to meet? Impossible. The unborn child will only know their poppie from pictures and stories. They will only learn the skills that their own father remembers. Life is cruel. Who will he call when something breaks. Who will he call when he needs guidance on a project. He's alone now. He is the one who imparts the wisdom. He is the one who takes care of his mom. He is the one who carries the heavy weight of protector and provider with no support from the past. He can't help but wonder how he will die. When he will die. Don't waste a moment.