I got the call from the hospice social worker this morning while I was in church. My Dad was 85, and would have been 86 this month. He was hospitalized with a gall bladder attack in April, and was moved from the hospital to an assisted living facility, and we made hospice arrangements at that time. So we knew this day would come, but of course we didn't know when. He had numerous organs failing, and was too weak for surgery.
The hard part has been watching him fade away for the last year or so. He was a vibrant, energetic man, always working in his garden or out playing music somewhere. He didn't have Alzheimer's, but was losing his memory at a pretty good rate. Every once in a while he would forget who I was, but not often. I was pretty much the most important person in his life after my Mom passed several years ago. Fortunately, my kids and I all visited him during the last week.
They told me he passed peacefully, without pain, for which I am thankful.
The hard part has been watching him fade away for the last year or so. He was a vibrant, energetic man, always working in his garden or out playing music somewhere. He didn't have Alzheimer's, but was losing his memory at a pretty good rate. Every once in a while he would forget who I was, but not often. I was pretty much the most important person in his life after my Mom passed several years ago. Fortunately, my kids and I all visited him during the last week.
They told me he passed peacefully, without pain, for which I am thankful.
