My Dad

I called my Dad last night. He is in the hospital. He is dying. His cancer has taken over and his liver is completely blocked. He was just moved to a hospice/pain management hospital where he will most likely spend his final days. He sounded very weak but still had his wits about him. He loses his train of thought sometimes but we were still able to have a relatively normal conversation. He said the food is great there, and they allow him to drink alcohol whenever he pleases. His girlfriend brought him a nice spanish sherry at his request. While on the phone the nurses came in at least twice to check on hiim. They asked him on a scale of 1 to 10 how bad is the pain? Seven he said. Damn.

It was difficult talking to him and at times I was close to tears but it was good to talk to him. I just kept thinking that soon I will not be able to hear his voice anymore. I wish I had tapes of his voice.

It's so unfortunate how this has all turned out. He leaving me when I was 12. Never to return. It's too bad things couldn't be different.