Fun Size Bytes

Yesterday I was cleaning under the sink and found my dad’s glasses. They were in a plastic tub with some toiletries, and something had spilled, making everything all sticky.

As I was washing them off in the sink, I felt a little guilty for letting them get like that.

Then I stopped and thought, “Wait, what?”

Let me repeat: I felt guilty that my dad’s glasses were covered in something. As if I had purposefully neglected them. My dad’s glasses. My dad who died in February 2006.

They were in that bin in a plastic bag with toiletries I’m sure the hospital sent home when he died. Somewhere along the line I must have stuck it under the sink and have been (subconsciously?) ignoring it ever since.

Other than “I guess I should donate them to the Lion’s club because I think they recycle glasses” I’m not sure why I should feel guilty about anything having to do with them. (Ok, and maybe I should clean under the sink more often.)

But what I was feeling was much more like, “Clearly by neglecting these glasses I am disrespecting my dad. Obviously if I didn’t care enough about them to take better care of them.”

This has been today’s episode of “brains are fucking stupid.”