A couple of days ago my Dad’s caregiver, Kathy, was feeding him some very thin soup. “Fred,” she said, “you’re going to have to get better so you and I can go out for a cheeseburger.” He turned toward me and said in a loud whisper, “It looks like I’m trying to rob the cradle.” With raised eyebrows, he grinned. Typical, ornery Dad.
That was the last verbal communication I had with him. Then it went to hand squeezes and eyebrow lifts. My Daddy went to heaven yesterday morning.
In my head I understand he’s not hurting any more, but I just wish my heart could catch up to my head. I’ve lost my mom, my brother and now my dad. As strange as it sounds, I think I know kind of how an orphan must feel. So, now I’ll be looking for my new normal.
Here’s to you, Dad, for a life well lived and for the legacy you left. I love you.