Journaling:
The last month of Dad’s life, from the night I got the calll that he had fallen until his last day at Hospice House, was really special: a time that I will always regard as sacred. I spent many hours nearly every day with him up at the hospital after his hip surgery. I would sit in the comfy brown chair next to his bed. We would watch the Olympics, or the two of us would doze, or we’d visit with the nurses & techs when they came in.
The rehab stay was pretty discouraging for him. I think that was a turning point, when he realized that he was not going to be able to return home. It was after one of my visits there that I called Aunt Donna & told her I thought they should come. It all rushes together after that -- the call that he was in the ER, the night on cipap & how he hated it. All his siblings coming out, & his decision to stop any kind of treatment. The move to Hospice House, and then his last day. It was such a blessing & privilege to spend that last month with him.
How I loved him. How I miss him.
