For
the entire month of May in 1990 my Dad was not feeling well. By the
time Memorial Day weekend came along, Mom took Dad to the hospital;
he had finally agreed to find out what was wrong.
Because
it was the holiday weekend, tests were put off until the next
Tuesday. And the tests were not good. Mom was told to have us kids
hurry to town so we could say goodbye. Dad and Mom were living, and
working, in St. Augustine, Florida at the time. Eric was in Western
New York, Clark was in New York City, and I was in Texas, near
Dallas.
I
was in such a state of denial, that it took several phone calls to
get me to realize that if I did not get on a plane soon, it might be
too late.
So
it was that the brothers arrived on Wednesday and Thursday, and I got
there Friday.
Dad
smiled when I walked in! I showed him pictures from a roll of film we
had hastily developed from Mothers Day weekend – Dad smiled some
more as he looked at the pictures of Sarah who was almost 6 and
Amanda who was 3.
When
visiting hours were over, we all said good night and told Dad we
would be back in the morning – we all made sure to say “I love
you”. Dad passed away during the night – it was June 2nd
– 2 days after Mom and Dad's 38th wedding anniversary.
153
20150602 thirtyeighth anniversary
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