For Tamara by Sarah Lang

I can tell you about all these plants that grow well, look pretty: totally useless.
    If you think I don’t spend a few seconds every day hoping to wake up / I’m far too good at lying.
    I never wanted to ask you to do this, but I’m trying to keep us all alive, ok? And yes, I get my own room. / Just pretend we are on a ship and the last thing you want is a sleep-deprived captain. / Otherwise, yeah, we’re packed in pretty tight.
    We imagined creatures that swam through space: they didn’t need a ship. (Your Mum is writing you a fairy-tale, she’s sorry she’s so busy.)
    In a tornado: hide under the stairs in the basement. / Your Dad loved you and me so much; he is sorry he can’t be here.
    I know this isn’t by the book. / But Darling, we’ve run out of those. / Trust your Mother. / This works. / I’m teaching you to make painkillers.
    Get Tylenol ones. That means otc Tylenol with codeine.
    Ideally get two Pyrex bowls, one that fits in the other. Otherwise, do your best. Just remember that normal glass will explode from any change in temperature.
    Crush ~10 Tylenol 1 pills.
    Use heated but not boiling water to dissolve the
powder.
    When it is visibly dissolved, place that bowl into the larger one, with ice if you have it. Regardless, cool it.
    In about 20 minutes the Tylenol will settle to the bottom. If you’re going to be all fancy you can use a coffee filter (or anything else you can think of); but
in general, just pour off the liquid.
    Remember how many pills you crushed and
the LD50.
    Fevers run in your maternal line. You’re probably fine up to 104ºF/40ºC. Other ppl, 102. / Yes, you will hallucinate, but you’ll live.
    Love ppl for their for faults, aka humanity. / All their quirks. / Boil water for 3 hours to be safe. Seriously, T., if you sleep when I sleep everyone wins.
    Tamara, I have this vision of you running towards me in the kitchen and it is . . . extraordinary.
    But it is the end of the world and Mum is going to do whatever she wants. She’s going to use that excuse alot.
    I’m sorry I can’t play more, but one day you’ll be doing my job. / Wash your hands. / That is the idea.
    Those tomato seeds will be food, save them. Save all seeds.
    Don’t worry, it didn’t hurt. Now remember that when I’m the one suturing your arm. / I’m sorry I’m not there anymore. / But at least when doing medical stuff, put up your hair, ok?
    Your Mum wishes you could have your own bedroom, but she promised to take care of these ppl.
    You run at me so happy with this red hair / I’ve told you to cut. / That is my last memory.
    I remember expecting someone to be there when I woke up, other than you, of course, My Dearest. / Yes, I miss your Dad every day.
    It has been 18 days.
    Don’t let people see you cry. / Let them see you mourn, but not cry. / Tamara, they need your strength.
    Never think I wanted to ask these things of you. / Make sure there are enough drop-spindles. / cd s & dvd s make a great end-piece.
    Don’t always try to fix problems. Sometimes just listen and say you understand. / But fix the ones you can.
    Your Dad was, is, awesome.
    Okay, I need you to board up the windows. / You make a latrine.
    I don’t want this to be the world you’re born in. / Please let there be books and pictures.
    We were watching this French film and laughing just a second before the audience—and we weren’t trying to be rude, we just weren’t reading the subtitles. And after reaching for popcorn, and soda, only to lean in closer, I brushed your hand. Our knees touched. I have no idea what that movie was about.

A few days before this / your Father and I argued about him leaving (again). / Love someone for who they are. / That was part of who he is / to deny him that would be cruel. / And yes, I miss you, Husband of Mine. / Every single fucking day.
    You want to be forgiven, but you did nothing wrong. / Nor