My Dad passed away one week ago today. I won’t go into it, because I don’t think I’m ready to just yet. I’ll just tell ya, he’d been sick for over a year and had been in the hospital since mid-June. I wrote a little bit about that when I went home to visit in July.
Dad had Mom call all the kids last Monday to come home because he knew he was close to the end. We all got there Monday night, had one last night of laughter, tears and chatter with him and then he slipped into unconsciousness Monday night and passed away at 5:58 am Wednesday, August 26th. He was surrounded by all 5 of his children, his wife and one grandchild (he had 11).
I stayed at home with my family through the funeral and then flew home late Saturday night. It doesn’t seem quite real when I’m this far away. I called my Mom today, just to chat, but she wasn’t home. She’s off shopping for groceries with one of my sisters. So the answering machine picked up the call. It’s my Dad’s voice. It’s weird to think he’s not really there.