Karen, what a story! Wow!
Last Sunday, Silver and I were visiting him at the nursing home and he just started rolling his chair out the door. "Dad, where are you going?" "Home", he says. "Dad, it's too cold outside." "I'm ready to leave", he says.
At the time, I halfway felt that "home" was somewhere else and that he knew it was time. I'm now sure of it.
It's funny: At his bedside, I tried to talk about memories to him. In the days since he died, we naturally remember so many more things. Though, at his bedside in the shock of the situation, I struggled to find things in my memory...
One vivid memory that I reminded him of at his bedside was one I have from about 10 years ago when we were out walking with my parents while the kids rode their bikes...and
my dad said "I want to ride a bike".
I paused and said something like "Dad, you're 70 years old...the pavement's hard...are you sure you want to do that?"
He said, "I WANT to ride your bike"
"OK, here it is"
It wasn't graceful, it was almost scary, but by golly, he rode that bike!
We weren't into cycling then...but for all these years, I've remembered that...
Funeral in 8 hrs and 21 minutes...



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