Well, life has thrown me for a loop. My dad has passed away. He had been fighting COPD (Chronic Obstructive Pulmonary Disease) brought on by asbestos in the shipyards during WWII. In the last year or two he had gone into the hospital several times because he just couldn’t breathe, first because of bronchitis, then just because there was not enough lung left. The last time in the hospital they couldn’t get him breathing without high levels of Predazone, higher than they would allow him to leave using – unless he was on Hospice. So he went on Hospice, hoping that would actually prolong his life, and it probably did. It was certainly better than not breathing! The Hospice people took very good care of him and supported the family too.
Dad continued to play his horn in the Hankey Pankys. The last time he played was at Hallmark where my mom is. She doesn’t know anyone anymore, but she seemed to recognize his playing and boogied to the music while sitting in her chair. Both Mom and I were there. Dad had some minor surgery the next day and never really recovered from that. I don’t know if it was from the anesthetic or what, he just started to fade. We couldn’t get the nursing staff rallied fast enough. He played the last time on Tuesday and passed away early Sunday morning.
I was a daddy’s girl. When I was away from home and got mail, I’d read the letter from my mom with all the clippings she sent and smile and enjoy it – we were friends. But I’d cry over Dad’s letter; same news, different reaction. If you know how to look you can see that the man I married is very like my father (but don’t tell him.)
I’ll probably write more, but remember I’m still planning a wedding in less than 4 weeks.
Dad continued to play his horn in the Hankey Pankys. The last time he played was at Hallmark where my mom is. She doesn’t know anyone anymore, but she seemed to recognize his playing and boogied to the music while sitting in her chair. Both Mom and I were there. Dad had some minor surgery the next day and never really recovered from that. I don’t know if it was from the anesthetic or what, he just started to fade. We couldn’t get the nursing staff rallied fast enough. He played the last time on Tuesday and passed away early Sunday morning.
I was a daddy’s girl. When I was away from home and got mail, I’d read the letter from my mom with all the clippings she sent and smile and enjoy it – we were friends. But I’d cry over Dad’s letter; same news, different reaction. If you know how to look you can see that the man I married is very like my father (but don’t tell him.)
I’ll probably write more, but remember I’m still planning a wedding in less than 4 weeks.
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