11/11/2025
This morning as I sit with my Dad, who once stood so tall and who has never met a stranger, I am reflecting on what life will look and feel like without him. He is very weak now, and he sleeps a lot. He can no longer stand or do much other than keep his iron grip on the TV remote. He is slowly fading. His beloved dog is almost always in bed with him, and he loves that - loves her. Overall he is comfortable and he knows he is loved. Even though he didn’t recognize me at first when I got here, I know him, and I am fine with waiting for the lucid times. I know some of his fuzzy-headedness is from the medication. We have had some good laughs sharing memories since I got here. I am grateful to have this final stretch of time with him, watching and smiling as flashes of his jokester personality still pop up. It surprises and tickles me when the odd one-liners occasionally come out of his mouth in between the rambling and unintelligible musings that only he understands. He swore that his sister was here giggling at him earlier (she passed years ago), and he told me that I was a real p**s pot as a kid (likely true!). I was always asking “why”, always challenging, then as now. Some things never change, but today I am not asking him “why”. I am well familiar with the grace that comes with this kind of long good-bye. Right now I feel peace mixed with a tinge of regret that sharing my experiences communicating with the spirit world is not possible with him. I wish I could tell him while he is still here about the beautiful experience he will have when his soul leaves to go home. His belief system is different from mine here in this 3D human existence, but once he is there he will see and know that only love is real. He will find he can rejoice in his fully restored form, and still reach back to communicate with us, giggling like my Aunt Lydia until we catch up with him over there. I hope he comes to see me, because I sure will miss my Daddy.