That’s So Sad

by

11/24/2010

Neighborhood: Staten Island

That’s So Sad
Photo by Kevin Dooley

This week I had dinner at my parents’ house. Afterwards, my father shuffled off to the couch to lie down. My mother and I watched him go. He looked old and tired. By no coincidence my mother began to
talk about how they’ve started to look at burial plots. My father was born on Staten Island and he wants to be buried on Staten Island.

And I said,

“I hate to think of you dying. I’ll be all alone.”

It was true and painful and I couldn’t lift my eyes from the table top. My mother reached out and put her hand on my arm. I could tell that for the first time in years she understood something about her middle son.

She said,

“That’s so sad.”

And she was right.
 

Brian Quinn, a Staten Islander, is a member of The Tenderloins comedy troupe with whom he recently wrote, produced and performed in a Tenderloins television pilot for Tru TV. Currently, he is working on his second novel and also can be heard on the “Tell Em’ Steve Dave” podcast, which is part of the View Askew Smodcast network.

Comments
Rate Story
1 Star2 Stars3 Stars4 Stars5 Stars (No Ratings Yet)
Loading...

§ 5 Responses to “That’s So Sad”

  • Geraldine says:

    Nice piece. I have a 93 yr. old father and my Staten Island cousins have a 92 yr. old mother who knits, read and volunteers in nursing homes. You can see the humor there. I used to perform stand up and now write and read memoirs. And am I great advocate of “short” piece. So you can imagine how much I related to yours. Look forward to knowing more about The Tenderloins which already sound funny.

  • Jeanne B. says:

    It IS sad. I lost both of my parents, four months apart, in 2006. I remember thinking the morning Mom died that I was now an orphan. Never mind that I was 43 and technically an adult. Still an orphan. Still alone. Even though they left two of us behind, my sister sometimes feels lightyears away. Sometimes, it feels like my parents never really existed, and I only imagined them.

    And tonight, as I read your words, I know that I still feel very much alone. And it’s still sad.

    Treasure every remaining moment you are allowed to share with them.

  • laura says:

    i lost my mother 3 yrs ago. my father 7 weeks ago. its really weird. that was a nice short piece. would like to see of this writers work,

  • Christina says:

    I lost my dad when i was 10 and i wpuld wake up in panic when i think about losing my mom. I am 31 yrs old she is 88 she had me late in life.

  • Sonia says:

    We simply do not know what happens after death. And since we have no information, why assume anything? Wouldn’t it make far more sense to let go of worry and fear, and free up the energy to live life fully in the present moment?
    That sounds good, however sadness still lingers.

§ Leave a Reply

Other Stories You May Like

Nearby Staten Island Stories

Vesuvius Ave.

by

May and the city rejoices in spring, in light and color, in the sheer goodness of life and its improvements. [...]

Body English

by

In the summer of ’77, I met Mark Roth in Pathmark on Hylan Boulevard. Heading home from a Sunday [...]

The Most Important Thought In the World

by

When the production of his play starts to get a little problematic, Tom Diriwachter finds himself in the presence of Christ.

Manhattan Mirage

by

I am a New York City booster. And I travel its streets with all its positives and negatives crammed [...]

Zone A

by

Hurricane Irene bared down on the East Coast, while my mother was in the Vent Unit of Staten Island University [...]