Hope this isn't too morose a subject, but we do seem to cover a lot of varied terrain here. My Dad passed more than half my lifetime ago. I still miss him badly. He said simply, "It's alright."
i was 10,000 miles away when mom and dad died , so consider yourself lucky (sort of ) . favorite last words from a mom "son whatever you do don't sell that cow"
I had always hoped I would be by my dad's side when he died. I was with him hours before, visiting him in the hospital where he had been for weeks. It was late afternoon on a Sunday when i had to leave to get back to my home 2 hours away.
He normally was of sound mind but that day was a bit delusional. He was convinced what I can only figure was that a nightmare, was reality. In leaving we were all standing around his bed and the nurse was saying what a fine fellow he was. I felt compelled to simply agree and stated I had never heard an ill word spoken about my dad as I looked him in the eye. He just stared back at me, and we said bye and my crowd and I left. He passed in the wee hours of the following morning.
There was a lot more I needed and wanted to say to that man.
WARNING: Some VA HOSPITAL staff murdered patients.!
He was killed by VA staff, so take heed and look for OTHER OPTIONS before using those"benefits". In fact IF I could do it all over again I would never even consider using the trashy VA. They cost too many people their lives. That urgent warning out of the way.
The last movie we saw together was The Book of Eli. The best apocalyptic movie ever made by far. Fitting for the special ending as it revealed God's protection of a blind preacher until it was time for him to leave this world. The character Eli, played by Dezil Washington left a King James Bible that was printed on the Earth's only printing press. My Dad lived a life that was better than any movie and God protected him from multiple near death experiences until he got saved. He left a similar legacy. 2 Months later he was killed by the Veterans Administration hospital staff.
I'm writing books on the events of Dad's life and using what Satan meant for evil and letting God do His will of goodness for many people. The last important thing he said to me before leaving this world is basically the same prayer at the end of the video that I'm going to post. Watch it and let me know what you think. It made a world of difference knowing that Dad is in heaven today and we'll get together soon.
After his service in the army my father was a tenant farmer. With a wife and 2 kids and barely getting by he went to med school on the GI bill. I was born 20 years later, 5th of 6 kids. He was a small town surgeon. I don't know what his last words were because I was still an hour out on a 7 hour drive home when he died. I left home for school when I got word he was on his death bed. He had bone marrow cancer. His spine and ribs had collapsed down and he could not breathe so he was on oxygen the last few months after an 8 year fight with the cancer. He was in the hospital the last week or so. The oxygen dried out his nasal passages and his nose was bleeding. The nurses couldn't get it to stop. He was telling them how to cauterize it. By the time they got it he was no longer conscious and died 6 hours later. 18 years ago this past winter.
I looked in on him while he was in ICU just before his last surgery. By chance a very good looking nurse walked past the bed and he turned to me and said "This isn't so bad at all"
He never regained consciousness after the operation.
You know, it's funny, but I really don't remember. It certainly wasn't anything profound or touching.
Dad went into the VA for a routine exam and never made it back out. They tried to implant a pacemaker, but it did not go well. He came out of the anesthetic and went completely nuts-- completely bat$hit crazy. He was howling at the moon, talking to the man in the ceiling, and muttering things about the cat in the wall. He was constantly trying to rip out his IV lines and rip at his incision, so they had to tie him in the bed.
Over a week, that gradually went away. He started to appear more normal. He made time with the nurses. He joked with me and Mom. However, they could not get his fluid levels right. He eventually suffered a complete breakdown and died.
I remember one of the last things I said to him where he was up and relatively normal was " When we get out of this, we're all going to have such a laugh!" The rest was just mundane small talk. He was able to see his boyhood neighborhood from the window of his room.
Shortly after that, he became unresponsive overnight. He never regained consciousness. I took Mom home on Sunday afternoon, and we stopped by a local rehab facility to check it out. If he made it out of the hospital we were looking at months of slow rehab. Afterward we went back to the house. The family gathered for dinner. We were all watching the Packers and Vikings when the call came.
My dad died 32 years ago of complications during bypass surgery. Before he was wheeled into surgery, he told me "When I get home, you and I are going out to buy a new Ford Bronco."
My dad passed from a rare and aggressive form of cancer. He found the lump on Halloween and died the 21st of February. The last meaningful conversation that we had was about a week before he died. The illness was taking its toll and we were trying to tie up as many loose ends as we could to insure that my Mom was taken care of. He took off his watch, wedding band and another ring he always wore and asked me to always keep them in the family. I can't remember if I had to leave that night or the next day for a work trip, but when I returned a few days later, he didn't know who he was or where he was. In the ensuing week he slipped into unconsciousness and passed in his sleep. The only other time he said anything coherent was the day before he passed when my brother and my nephews were all gathered around him saying goodbye, his eyes opened briefly and he said "I love you' about 8 times in a row and then closed his eyes again and fell silent. Those were the last words I heard him say.
Hope this isn't too morose a subject, but we do seem to cover a lot of varied terrain here. My Dad passed more than half my lifetime ago. I still miss him badly. "
I was in college 144 miles away and he asked me to come see him. He had been struggling with cancer for several years and it had returned. He found himself becoming incontinent and asked my mother to go to the store for something. He took his own life that day. His was 59 years old.
I don't know what his last words were, but I will never forget the last conversation I had with him. My 2 young boys and I had spent a January Sunday afternoon at his place sledding down a hill on his property. When we were getting ready to leave, He told me he first wanted to share some information with me. The day before he had purchased a 120 acre farm at an auction with intention of dividing it up in to 5 and 10 acre lots for sale. He said " I want someone to know what my plans are in case something happens. You never know, I may die tomorrow." So we sat down and he went over everything with me. A week and a half later, he died of a heart attack at the age of 61.
Unknown. He was in an Alzheimer facility at 92. He'd just wakened up and a nurse came in and talked to him. She came back 30 min later and he was gone.
I don't know for sure what he said, but know what he did . . . he got up from the table after eating his sandwich for lunch and headed for the living room and his recliner, which he did every day for years. My bet is he said "I think I'll take a snooze" . . . He never woke up.
Never knew my real father, saw him twice. My step fathers were “ You graduated high School. Get the Fuuck out of my house! “
My friend Greg had a step father like that. Greg graduated from high school on June 1, and when he got home after the ceremonies, step father gave him the graduation present, a 3 piece set of matching luggage, and said "Get the Fuuck out of my house!"
My friends Dad passed away about 5 years ago. He was like a second dad to me. Taught me almost everything I knew about working on cars and equipment. His Mom said he was sitting on the edge of a hospital bed getting ready to leave after some cancer testing. He looked at her said "I'm Sorry" and face planted dead on the floor. Had an aneurysm.
"I want to go home" (said full of anger as a demand and not a request) the last time I saw him at the hospital. He had liver cancer and was bleeding out faster than they could put blood back in him. He went home and got out his old A-5 Browning, then changed his mind. (I later found it sitting by his chair) He got in his truck, ran it up to 80mph and hit a low concrete bridge barrier killing himself. In the last few months of his life when a normal man in his condition would draw those he loved close to him-he managed to alienate everyone who gave a damn about him until all were glad he was gone. However, he actions did have one unintended kindness. The auto insurance company paid death benefits sufficient to bury him and a very generous property settlement on the truck. This kept my brother and I from having to try to clean and sell the filthy POS that smelled like the bottom of a pool hall butt can. My father never cleaned a car after he bought one, smoked with the windows rolled up and flipped ashes in the floorboard. I doubt we could have given the truck away.
My stepfather, a man I loved very dearly, who battled pancreatic cancer with courage and dignity said "I love you and take care of your mother". I know where his soul resides. I am not certain about my father's.
I am conflicted typing this. I live 1000 miles away. Dad was 90 yrs old. Last conversation was on the subject of helping my no good half brother. Some time later dad wasn't at half sister's wedding, neither was half brother. Half brother assaulted dad night before wedding, brain bleed from blunt force trauma, and lost ability to talk. Died in hospital about 10 days later.
You know, it's funny, but I really don't remember. It certainly wasn't anything profound or touching.
Dad went into the VA for a routine exam and never made it back out. They tried to implant a pacemaker, but it did not go well. He came out of the anesthetic and went completely nuts-- completely bat$hit crazy. He was howling at the moon, talking to the man in the ceiling, and muttering things about the cat in the wall. He was constantly trying to rip out his IV lines and rip at his incision, so they had to tie him in the bed.
Over a week, that gradually went away. He started to appear more normal. He made time with the nurses. He joked with me and Mom. However, they could not get his fluid levels right. He eventually suffered a complete breakdown and died.
I remember one of the last things I said to him where he was up and relatively normal was " When we get out of this, we're all going to have such a laugh!" The rest was just mundane small talk. He was able to see his boyhood neighborhood from the window of his room.
Shortly after that, he became unresponsive overnight. He never regained consciousness. I took Mom home on Sunday afternoon, and we stopped by a local rehab facility to check it out. If he made it out of the hospital we were looking at months of slow rehab. Afterward we went back to the house. The family gathered for dinner. We were all watching the Packers and Vikings when the call came.
Sad to here that the VA hospital killed your Dad too. I wonder how many Dad's go to that damned cancer of an institution for a routine examine and come out dead or the drugs and their treatments kill them?
Never knew my real father, saw him twice. My step fathers were “ You graduated high School. Get the Fuuck out of my house! “
My friend Greg had a step father like that. Greg graduated from high school on June 1, and when he got home after the ceremonies, step father gave him the graduation present, a 3 piece set of matching luggage, and said "Get the Fuuck out of my house!"
Greg never spoke to him again.
Never saw the SOB again either. I’m sorry to say I felt elated when I heard he passed.
I went to the hospital to visit dad the morning before he passed during the night. Brought him a ham biscuit from Bojangles. He sat up in bed and ate every crumb. He told me he loved me before I left. He knew he didn't have long. We got the call from the hospital right at midnight.
Mom spent the last year of her life in a nursing home. We were told a week earlier that her days were short. I got a call about 6AM on New Years day 2018, mom was asking for me. I called my brother and we got there before 7. She woke up just long enough to say, "Son, I'm going" She went back to sleep and took her last breath about 3 PM.
Dad went on 10 years ago. Both my brothers and I were there. “The Old Man” loved to hunt deer with us, usually somewhere up on Pleasantville Mountain. On the steep side near the top, there’s a big rock that lets a guy get out a ways and see down into the hollow down below. One of us nearly always hunted there while we spread out and hunted our way to the Jeep at the bottom. We’ve taken quite a few deer from that rock. He looked up at me and Dave and said “I’ll see you boys on the big rock”. Every year in deer season I make it a point to go to the big rock, and leave a cold beer and a cigarette. 7mm
Dad talked to each of his five children separately near the end, he was dying of cancer. He told me how proud he was of me. He was only 42 when he passed, it was hard for him because his Father died when he was only 14 and knew how hard it would be on his five young children and young wife.
Dad went on 10 years ago. Both my brothers and I were there. “The Old Man” loved to hunt deer with us, usually somewhere up on Pleasantville Mountain. On the steep side near the top, there’s a big rock that lets a guy get out a ways and see down into the hollow down below. One of us nearly always hunted there while we spread out and hunted our way to the Jeep at the bottom. We’ve taken quite a few deer from that rock. He looked up at me and Dave and said “I’ll see you boys on the big rock”. Every year in deer season I make it a point to go to the big rock, and leave a cold beer and a cigarette. 7mm
I don’t recall my mother’s last words I had just finished feeding her lunch in the hospice when she lost consciousness and died three days later. 19 years ago.
My dad died in the hospice September 2019. He had been unconscious for about 8 hours, he surfaced to full consciousness and said clear as day “I want a popsicle”. I fed him the popsicle which he ate with relish. He went unconscious and died the next day.
Dad is still alive and kickin', but..... his dad, while lying in the bed that he was going to die in, asked grandma '...Tam (her name was Tamsy) why is this taking so long???...'
My dad is still around. My Paternal grandfather had diabetes and they put him in a care center at the end of his life because they had to amputate part of his foot. It damned hard for him as he was always very independent and helped everyone else. He was bound and determined to get the hell out of there and back home to see grandma. Well, he finally did. He walked into the house, gave my grandmother a kiss and died immediately afterwards of a massive heart attack. He achieved that final goal and signed off.
He always took me deer hunting when I was a kid with his old 30-40 Krag. He was a highly decorated WW2 vet. At the end of the war, he was given a commission to be in charge of the maintenance for the entire US navy. The whole town showed up for his funeral. His and my first wife’s funerals are the only ones where I ever shed a tear.
longarm; Good morning to you sir, I hope the day in your part of the world is as mild and bright as it is here and that this finds you well.
Thanks for the thought provoking thread and thanks to the respondents who've chosen to share with us, both the pleasant and less so memories.
While it absolutely wasn't always so, as I left home at 15, my father and I made a concerted effort to mend fences afterward and as much as possible be on good terms with each other.
He'd had his first major heart attack at 51, had several others which nearly took him as well and finally his 3rd stroke took him 32 years later. As some know as well of me, I was involved in an auto incident at 15 - after I'd left home - which brought me to the very edge of the next world, so we sorta had that in common.
When we'd meet then, we'd do our best to spit out what was on our mind of late, since we were both aware that it might well be the last time we'd speak in this life.
Things I recall him exhorting me were gems like, "Your life is the only Bible some people are ever going to read son, do your best to live what you believe."
Another one was, "If you're not learning something, best look around as you're likely dead!"...then he'd laugh in his low chuckle that would shake his whole body, touch you on the arm the way old guys do and add, "But you're going to find there's some things you don't want to learn again..."
The afternoon before he passed, he and Mom had returned from my elder brother's 50th Birthday back on the prairies and it had been the first time Dad was cleared to fly in decades so he was feeling in top shape.
We were standing in my shop, either working on a rifle or some project and were just going over who of my relatives they'd seen and talked to, the state of farming in Saskatchewan, that sort of thing. He stopped and said to me, "You know Dwayne I'm going to turn 83 this year and I can't make sense of that. Somewhere I've misplaced about 30 years as I don't feel much older than mid 50 or so. You know, it's been a faster trip than I thought it'd be."
That's what stuck with me from the last conversation we had, Dad being Dad and telling me in his way to make my days count for something.
By most measures Dad wasn't a rich man when he passed, but the church was standing room only for his services, cars parked up and down the road and the parking lot packed, so I'd say by that he'd swung a pretty wide loop for an old retired farmer who moved west 23 years previous.
Anyways sir, that's my recollections of a man who I was proud to call both a friend and my father. I'm turning into "that old guy" more and more these days, sometimes even touching the young guys on the arm when I want them to understand I mean what I'm trying to say.
These days I'm trying to still be useful, as anymore that's what I find the most rewarding personally and in the end, history will judge me just the same way it will all of us I suppose.
Thanks for letting me think for a bit and attempt to articulate a response. All the best to you folks and stay well.
My step dad and I got closer, the older he and I got. I got a call from my mom that we was going back in and I should get there. Flew back the next morning and got to see him for a few days as things progressed. We had a little small talk. Nothing too deep because neither he nor I were very open with feelings. I was there though. Holding his hand.
My Dad died 9 years ago, the day before he was to turn 91. He had been quite ill for several months and was in a hospital in Bennington VT. I drove from Chicago to VT and spent several days visiting him in the hospital. He would lapse in and out of consciousness, but when he was awake we’d talk about old hunting and fishing memories we shared. Finally, I had to leave and I said...”Dad, you’re the best father I could ever have had”. He smiled and said “Thanks Bud”. He died the next week and my baby sister, who is a nurse and lived in New England, was there in his last day.
My stepdad died a while back. Went to the funeral for mom. Eh, I still think I should have skipped it. Condescending fuggin dweeb. Never liked the bastard.
My dad is still alive. He'll turn 80 on August 14th of this year. He's the youngest of 3 remaining children of a brood of 9. He's a lifelong tobacco user and his lungs sound like chitt, but he's still sharp and somewhat active, and not afraid to turn a wrench or dig a post hole, but it would take him longer than it would have even just 5 years ago. He's a good man and I've told him so, telling him that he's my hero, but he's too humble to really accept the title.
He buried his second wife almost 2 years ago and he's been sort of drifting ever since. Sold his home and bought a used RV and planning to bounce around between staying with one of his kids or step-kids.
Anyway, thanks to the OP for the thread, (sobering as it is) because it gave me the nudge I needed to call my Dad yesterday evening after weeks of meaning to do so, only to put it off to another day.
Died in his sleep between 330am an 0630am, was staying with my sister, he was up walking around the house at 330 when she told to get back to bed ...she was up a 6am making coffee for him , went to wake him up ...gone ... heart attack . Sister said that dad was saying early in week prior..... that he was " seeing" family , brother's ,mother etc....but all had died years before.....
It's been 5 years and one week since he passed, and today is his birthday. It's still as raw to me as the day he passed. His last words were 2 days prior to the end. I was telling him some things about our business and I thought he had replied. I asked him and he said, almost imperceptibly, "I didn't say nuffin." with his characteristic smirk. That was the last he was able to get out. His service was attended by well over 1000 people and that, to me, confirmed what I'd always known; that he was truly someone special.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I got something in my eye.
Died in his sleep between 330am an 0630am, was staying with my sister, he was up walking around the house at 330 when she told to get back to bed ...she was up a 6am making coffee for him , went to wake him up ...gone ... heart attack . Sister said that dad was saying early in week prior..... that he was " seeing" family , brother's ,mother etc....but all had died years before.....
But it does bring up the question.....what words will you leave w your kids.
Say something nice n fluffy, be nice to those that dont deserve it? Give words of wisdom or just fuggin shut up and leave?
How about "I hope y'all know where I hid all the cash"
Nope...I wouldn't do that to them. I'm proud of every one of my boys! I hope and pray that when my time comes, I can show them how a Christian man should leave this life, as I have tried to show them how a Christian man should live his life. My Dad showed me how it was done...
My dad had his first heart attack in February 1975. His health was never the same but he liked to be doing something so he got a job being a janitor. It wasn't truck driving but it was the best he could do.
I was in the garden hoeing between some corn rows. It had been a wet spring and when the sun came out it made the clay soil hard as a rock. He was on his way to work and he walked out to the garden and saw me hoeing the ground. He said, "you have to keep oxygen to those roots if you want them to grow" and "I'm going to work, see you later". He went to his car and I saw him drive by the garden and I thought to myself "I sure hope so". It was June 13th 1976. He had his second heart attack as he was waking up the morning of June 14th. He was talking to mom still in bed when it hit him. He was one day short of his 52nd birthday.
Not sure, he passed alone watching TV sometime during the night. His cousin who was in the early stages of Alzheimers found him the next morning and went up the road to my cousin's work to ask her to call someone. Being with the Alzheimers he forgot why he went up there and was making small talk for 15-20 minutes before my cousin asked how Dad was doing, Answer" "Oh chit, he's laying dead in the floor that's why I came up here".
About 16 years ago, my Dad stopped by the house on his way through headed to Idaho. I was going through a really bad stretch in life. In fact, a half hour before he arrived at the house, my wife at the time had just filed for divorce. I didn’t bring up that she filed with him - I wanted him to enjoy his evening with my daughters who thought the world of him. They were 5 and 6 at the time.
He told me to make every day count. Don’t piss them away. Drink good coffee. Drink good beer - but don’t drink too much. Enjoy my kids and life. Enjoy each sunrise. Because you only live about 30,000 days. I asked him where he got that number. He said easy. Math. 80 years times say 400 days per year. So figure 30,000. That’s 30,000 dinners. So don’t piss away life.
The next morning, He told me he loved me, and he’d see me on his way back through town. He left my house and was killed about 5 hours later in a car crash. He was forced off the road when someone tried to pass on a double yellow no passing zone.
He had cancer and was supposed to live a while longer. I lived 800 miles away. Called him several days before Easter and said I’ll come see you Easter Sunday. He said, wait a few days as your brothers and sisters will be here Easter. He died a couple days after Easter 1992 at age 66. I still think of him often.
I didn't have a good relationship with, nor a lot of respect for my father. I can remember some good times when I was really young, being taken fishing, the first time I shot a .22, sitting on his lap. Those good times got less and less frequent as I got older. He never failed to remind me how much I disappointed him. Like many men in our family, alcohol ruled his life. I don't remember the last time we talked about anything. I can probably speculate pretty accurately as to his last words....he died one afternoon in Surfside Beach, SC. He was doing his usual afternoon routine, cruising around, making the rounds of his favorite bars, when he sailed through an intersection where the traffic controls had recently been changed, right into the path of a mixer with a full load of concrete on board. Pretty spectacular from what I heard. When I got the news that night, I felt a big relief pass over me...I wouldn't have to deal with him any more. Over time I've lost my anger and resentment, I feel regret that he didn't have a better life than what he did.
Never knew my real father, saw him twice. My step fathers were “ You graduated high School. Get the Fuuck out of my house! “
My friend Greg had a step father like that. Greg graduated from high school on June 1, and when he got home after the ceremonies, step father gave him the graduation present, a 3 piece set of matching luggage, and said "Get the Fuuck out of my house!"
Greg never spoke to him again.
One of my brothers was married to a girl who had a brother and a sister. Their parents' policy was, once you graduate high school, you've got a week to get out of the house.
Not sure, he passed alone watching TV sometime during the night. His cousin who was in the early stages of Alzheimers found him the next morning and went up the road to my cousin's work to ask her to call someone. Being with the Alzheimers he forgot why he went up there and was making small talk for 15-20 minutes before my cousin asked how Dad was doing, Answer" "Oh chit, he's laying dead in the floor that's why I came up here".
My farther drowned while fishing Wabigoon Lake, a nice Sunday afternoon, 19 August 1984.
I've no idea what his last words were.
sorry to hear that...tragedy
i was up the street at a friend's, age 11...i heard my dad returned from work and was headed up the street to the store, and ran off the road. i remember looking down the street to my house seeing a big car in the driveway, it was our doctor there to inform ma that he had a heart attack...have minimal recollection of him, some good, some bad
Not sure, he passed alone watching TV sometime during the night. His cousin who was in the early stages of Alzheimers found him the next morning and went up the road to my cousin's work to ask her to call someone. Being with the Alzheimers he forgot why he went up there and was making small talk for 15-20 minutes before my cousin asked how Dad was doing, Answer" "Oh chit, he's laying dead in the floor that's why I came up here".
My dad is still alive. He'll turn 80 on August 14th of this year. He's the youngest of 3 remaining children of a brood of 9. He's a lifelong tobacco user and his lungs sound like chitt, but he's still sharp and somewhat active, and not afraid to turn a wrench or dig a post hole, but it would take him longer than it would have even just 5 years ago. He's a good man and I've told him so, telling him that he's my hero, but he's too humble to really accept the title.
He buried his second wife almost 2 years ago and he's been sort of drifting ever since. Sold his home and bought a used RV and planning to bounce around between staying with one of his kids or step-kids.
Anyway, thanks to the OP for the thread, (sobering as it is) because it gave me the nudge I needed to call my Dad yesterday evening after weeks of meaning to do so, only to put it off to another day.
Good Boy Scot, enjoy the old timer while you can.
A couple months ago one of the guys I work with was complaining about something stupid his dad spent some money on, When it was my turn to talk I just said, I sure wish my dad was still around to bitch about, he turned and walked away.
Two hours later he came up to me and said, Your right, Thanks Paul.
Don't know about my father, but I was holding my step-dad's hand when he passed. I honestly can't say what his last words were. We were talking a little a few minutes earlier. Soon he just left.
I watched my father die from a battle with cancer when I was 14. The last words I remember him saying were where he was asking me who helped me get dressed. I was helping him get his pants back on after using the restroom. That moment right there was when i realized my father was going to die. I knew he had cancer and had been told he was going to pass away but somehow in my young mind I didn't comprehend it. After that afternoon with him my mom brought my sister to see him the next morning. By then he was totally incoherent.My sister had a chance to say goodbye and he passed away within minutes.That was a life changing experience for obvious reasons. It took a long time and a lot of heartache to finally accept and deal with my fathers death. It's been almost 30 years since that day and I hardly ever think about it anymore. I would give anything to have a conversation or just a few minutes with him again.
The general consensus was Dad was a real prick, and he was. Told me not to trust my mother, wish I had listened. Died of stage 4 cancer and dementia/alzheimer's.
Never knew my real father, saw him twice. My step fathers were “ You graduated high School. Get the Fuuck out of my house! “
My friend Greg had a step father like that. Greg graduated from high school on June 1, and when he got home after the ceremonies, step father gave him the graduation present, a 3 piece set of matching luggage, and said "Get the Fuuck out of my house!"
Greg never spoke to him again.
I was very lucky with my 2nd step-dad. I was 17 when he married my mother. We became close, hunted, fished, and worked together for about 20 years. He died kinda young at 69. I was with him and mom. I was holding his hand and cried for a while.Hard to think about it still. I should have spent more time with him than I did. I don't think my mother appreciated or treated him as well as he deserved.
Your posts here have been very interesting, some are fittingly humorous and many are elevating and inspiring. Thanks for your sharing.
Some men believe that they had the very best dad possible - I like to hear that, and certainly feel that way about my father. He was a great man - wise, very strong physically and mentally, gentle ad loving with us, tough as an anvil, an outstanding athlete, very competitive and very loyal. He was a true Christian man and lived life that way. My mother felt so blessed to have him as her own, and the years have showed me why.
Dad fought some serious illnesses between the ages 65 and 69 and I was with him often during that period. He was battling stage 4 melanoma when I flew across the US to visit him during the first week of Feb.1986, Although he was much weakened and in pain, it was a wonderful visit. I barely left his room there at home and we were able to reminisce and discuss many meaningful things in our lives. One thing very much on his mind was to make certain that mother received something very special from him on Valentine's Day. My siblings and I arranged for that. I do not know his last utterance because, after a lovely good bye talk, I flew back West to another reality. He died within a week in the care of my mother. That was many years ago and that experience during his final days caused me to become a more thoughtful and better man - not does a single day pass that I do not think of him and remember his wisdom and love.
