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Dad died last night. His birthday was coming soon, on the 27th, and he would have been 87, which is how I'm going to think of him in terms of age. Until last Christmas, he did not act like an 86-year-old -- he was still picking me up at the airport when I traveled, taking care of me with financial planning advice, that sort of thing. It's been a hard year for him, and for me. Now I'm all alone and it feels really empty. Even when he drove me out of my mind, he was my dad, and I had family.
Apparently he coded right after I left the ER to take care of the menagerie at home. Every time they thought they stabilized him, he coded again. I still don't understand why they sent him home the first time when you could see how bad off he was.
I don't think I can answer comments, but I guess I won't turn them off right now. But I'll take it as given, and you're not obliged to comment. Instead I'd refer you to this post about how he earned a bronze star in WWII, as well as a couple other posts of things he wrote to me about his service. I think they paint a better picture of him than anything I could say.
Apparently he coded right after I left the ER to take care of the menagerie at home. Every time they thought they stabilized him, he coded again. I still don't understand why they sent him home the first time when you could see how bad off he was.
I don't think I can answer comments, but I guess I won't turn them off right now. But I'll take it as given, and you're not obliged to comment. Instead I'd refer you to this post about how he earned a bronze star in WWII, as well as a couple other posts of things he wrote to me about his service. I think they paint a better picture of him than anything I could say.
