December 16, 2017:
He slept with eyes open. You'd find him eerily unconscious on the common room rug with lids wide and breathing regular.
He joined a cult. He was comfortable being told what to do.
He married a controlling woman. He was comfortable being told what to do.
He couldn't have a television in the house. He'd watch it day and night, fixated, as if it were telling him what to do.
He was diagnosed with dementia. He was institutionalized and, eventually, he forgot.
I won't forget him.