Should I die, this blog will serve as my son's source of virtual mama.

If I live, I won't have to repeat myself.

sigers writes fiction and nags her son in austin, texas. 

I want you to know that I wrote this right after my father died and I ended up drawing the delicate fatherly lines.

I was driving somewhere and I was thinking that I would rather not die anytime soon. Especially not on the way to his funeral. Because the first motherfucker that starts to draw delicate little fatherly lines between me and him … the first motherfucker that says Now they’re together in heaven … that motherfucker? I’m going to make my cremated ashes fill that motherfucker’s mouth and CHOKE HIM TO DEATH.

And now, two weeks later? I’m that motherfucker. 

I want you to know that you never know what the last conversation will sound like.

I want you to know that I was wrong, and I was right.