There’s the Worst Day of your life,
And there’s the Day Before the Worst Day.
On the Worst Day, I learnt there’s a difference between
a heart attack
and cardiac arrest.
I didn’t know that before.

The Worst Day
started out as a regular day
But is now a shudder;
a calendar date like a slash
with a scar.

But…
the Day Before the (Very) Worst Day.
Well.
It’s the last day of innocence
before every memory becomes tainted
with Sad.

The Day Before the (Very) Worst Day
Was the last ordinary day with my dad
Which has now become extraordinary
Because every interaction
(On Monday, the 12th of November, 2018)
is marked with
Last Times.

The Last Time we hung out:
I did a little kindness for him.
Not a big one.
I could have missed the chance, he gave me an out.
(“Don’t worry, I can just call Roadside Assistance”)
I easily could have missed the chance (Last Act of Service).

He’d locked his keys in the Caddy and was stuck in the Bunnings car park.
I rescued him with the kids in the back;
Handed him a potato scallop and said,
“I got this for you,”
Which wasn’t true because I’d bought it
as a spare for the kids.
I remember feeling guilty for lying
when he took it with such gratitude and ate with such gusto.
Now I see
it wasn’t a lie at all. (Last Gift)

I drove him home to find his spare car keys
then back to Bunnings to pick up the Caddy.
In the car I told him it was one of those days
When everything was taking forever.
He told me it wasn’t everything; it was me
Trying to do too much, too quickly,
That I needed to slow down. (Last Piece of Advice)

I followed him home and he stood outside his car and said:
“Why don’t you go to Aldi and leave the girls here?
Pick them up when you’re done.”
I hesitated for a second then thought: “Oh wonderful.”
I didn’t think: This will be their Last Time Together.
I thought: “A grocery shop all alone.”
He held the little one who was crying about a lost balloon
and led the older one by the hand inside.

Their Last Time Together lasted as long as my shopping trip.
I’m not sure, an hour?
I remember taking my time. It was a brand new Aldi.
He had told me not to rush, so I didn’t.
In that hour:
He wiped away the little one’s tears
and taught the older one how to sew a button.

Before leaving, he kept handing me things
I might need.
A new bin from Bunnings.
A hand soap dispenser.
Some baskets.
My arms were piled high with crap
that normally I would’ve said no to
but this time, for some reason,
I said yes. Yes! Thank you. I’ll take it all.
And now I have a soap dispenser
I can never throw away.
(Last Hugs. Last Kisses. Last Smiles. Last I Love You’s. Last Waves Goodbyes).

These random
Yet utterly intentional happenings.
These split-second decisions
That could have been missed
But were not, they were not missed…they were caught!
All these precious
Joy-full
Innocuous but
Enormous
Lasts.