He was very ill and had been living in a nursing home for three years after his diabetes had wracked his body to the point that his organs were failing on him. He had been on kidney dialysis for ten years - the longest his doctors have ever seen.
He was fading away on us before our very eyes, and we knew he was living on borrowed time. He had always been very lucky to have survived many close calls with his health, and we often joked that he had more lives than a cat, or that he was born under a Lucky Star.
My favourite memory of my Dad was when my oldest son Josh was very little. He called Dad "Boppa", and used to follow him around everywhere asking "Where ya gonin' Boppa? Whatcha doonin' Boppa?" Dad used to talk about that often, and enjoyed those memories very much himself. Josh spoke at Dad's funeral, and hearing him refer to him as Boppa then at age ten, years after he learned to properly pronounce the word "Grandpa", really choked me up.
My phone rang just after midnight one year ago today. I knew instantly what the call was about even before I answered the phone. I was dreading that call, and hoped it would never come, although I knew in my heart it eventually would.
We went to the nursing home to see him, and say our goodbyes. He was in bed, with his head turned to the side as if he was sleeping. He looked very small and frail...even more so than he normally looked. I sat with him for awhile and told him I loved him, and that he should rest now. After battling with his health for decades his war was finally over.
Dad was 66 years old. Father of three and grandfather of five - three of whom he never did meet.
Miss you and love you Daddy, today and always...
Cathy, Pam, Jen, Joshua, Tyssen, Ashley, Abigail and Avery
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