I just got home from visiting family in Milwaukee. It was a whirlwind trip. Planned on Wednesday. Executed Thursday. It’s Sunday night and I’m home and in pajamas.
This was a great weekend for my dad. He’s living with my sister now. He had both his children, two of four grandchildren and all four great grandchildren. That’s a lot of family and it was perfect.
The little kids are little enough to be adorable no matter what they do. The big kids are now grownups–each of whom I like a lot. They all disappear when the Sun goes down.
My dad has gotten very weak. It has not affected this mental capacities. He can still tell jokes on demand. However, the mere act of walking a step or two leaves him gasping for air. He would rather eat soup because chewing is physically taxing.
My dad and the family know why this is happening. He is suffering from heart failure. His heart is leaky and no longer has the ability to pump all the blood his body needs. It’s at a pretty advanced stage. His fragility means he’s not a candidate for treatment.
My dad has chosen to be on hospice care. In his case he’ll continue to take his current medications and let the chips fall where they may. A hospice nurse will check on him, report back to his doctors, treat minor maladies and make sure he’s in no pain. At the moment he’s got the aches all 93 year olds have.
Living with my sister is excellent for my father. He likes the company. He’s eating regularly. There’s always family around. He is VERY happy.
My dad will go with no regrets. He told me so and I believe him. He is loved and cherished by us and pretty likable to everyone else. And he’s become an Internet luminary which he absolutely loves.
Please, don’t feel sorry for my dad. There’s no good way to go. That being said he has chosen the best way.