One of our last walks around the block before he went back in the hospital. It was a gorgeous day, having rained that morning; you can see the clouds in the background. He saw me taking these and told me, "Eh, you don't want me in your nice pictures." I assured him that I did, very much so. Then we went home and I packed to go to the Bay Area for work for the weekend. The next Wednesday, after an xray by his doctor, he was admitted to the hospital once again; he'd only been home for about a month and a half.
The following is an account of my father's death. I'm leaving this public because after my mother passed away, I found similar stories comforting, but maybe I'm just morbid. Please skip if you find such things distressing, or if needed I could make a filter, because there's likely to be more related stuff here for a while.
Alternatively, other entries from this journal about my dad are here - or by clicking Dad in the tag cloud on the right on my LJ page. They may be happy or not so much. Also, I had made a journal for him where I was transcribing some of the stories he told me at deadwood_bob, although I always intended to write down more of them. If you knew my dad and have a story about him, I would love it if you could write it down and send it to me, and I'll include it there as an entry.
( Read more... )