Dad

Last Friday, on June 17th, Dad died at 6:40 AM.  He was 96 years old.  I was called on Thursday at midnight by the nurse on duty at the nursing home and told that Dad would probably not make it through the night.  After sitting with him for two hours I went home to get some sleep.  I returned at 6:15 in the morning, greeted by the nurse, and told that she was happy I made it back in time. 

Dad's passing was a gentle event.  It left me with a great feeling of peace.  I believe the nurse knew, through experience, what a gift it is to be with loved one's at the time of their death.  The biggest problem for me is that I've been going to the nursing home every morning for over four years and feeding dad his breakfast.  I feel as if I'd been fired from a job and now need to readjust my mornings.

The celebration of dad's life was a happy and slightly raucous occasion.   People described dad as one of the kindest and most humorous people they had to privileged of knowing.  My brother, Dan, read a list of dad's sayings, including his critique to golfers - "The trouble with your swing is that you were standing too close to the ball after you hit it."

Thanks, dad, for all the great words of wisdom.

"I was waiting for such a long time, she said.  I thought you forgot.  It's hard to forget, I said, when there is such an empty space when you are gone."  Brian Andreas - Story People.