Wandering

I was holding my sleeping baby in my arms. It was three in the morning, and my dad called me.I could hear crickets in the background, when if anything there should have been the sound of late night television. He said he was tired, then he hung up and didn't answer for the next ten minutes. I finally got a hold of him, and he was trying to get into someone's truck. Somewhere that was not his house, or anywhere nearby because my sisters were driving around looking for him.He kept saying to me to unlock the door. It took me at least an hour through multiple hangups and hoping that his phone wouldn't die, but I finally got him to read the license plate number to me, so the police could find him. Five miles away from his house.

Pardon my French, fuck dementia.