My Dad

My Dad fell and hit his head on a Monday at about 8:30 AM. He died Tuesday night around midnight. I had a terrific cold...coughing, sneezing, runny nose. Monday morning when I called the nurse answered and told me he had cut his head but otherwise was doing fine. I talked to him an hour later. He said he was not feeling very good. He had a terrific headache. I asked him if he had taken anything for it. He said he didn't know. I checked with the nurse and she said she had not but she would go give him some tylenol. Little did I know that would be my last conversation with him. Later that day he was walking his dog and took another fall. I packed a bag to go and stay the night in his apartment with him. When I arrived I was told he had been sent to the ER. Upon arrival at the hospital I was escorted to a "consult room"...not a good sign. Dad was in a deep coma and the remaining conversations that I had with him were one-sided. Yes, I know he was 90 years old and had lived a long life...but he was my Dad. I know he was up and going before his latest fall. We had a great Thanksgiving dinner with his granddauhter and four great grandchildren. He joined in the conversation and was not even anxious about getting home to his apartment. I miss him very much. I am so thankful that his last year he was only 30 some miles away compared to the 950 miles he had been for the last 25 years. We had so many opportunities to be together this past year. I wake up every morning ready to pick up the telephone and check up with him. I will miss him for a long time. I am glad we always ended our conversations with "I love you".