This is so tough to type... I lost my 85 year old father last night.
He was just beginning to be treated for a very aggressive cancer in a tumor on one of kidneys. The tumor and cancer was discovered only weeks ago and he took a quick turn for the worse yesterday morning while in the hospital. Due to complications he was put on 100% oxygen and was not conscious. I was with him for the afternoon and my wife and I debated if we should bring my mother over to visit/say goodbye. Due to her mind erasing dementia we knew this could go bad but decided to get her anyway. It turned out to be a wonderful decision. She hovered over him for approx an hour and spoke to him quietly and would cry at times. She was confused at times, but overall she was beautiful with her dying husband. My mother and father were young sweet-hearts and married and had children in their late teens. They were in love and were devoted to each other for the last 65 years.
After my wife took her away, I sat next to my father and told him that my brother and I would take care of mom...that she was happy in her care facility. I told him he could stop fighting at anytime... he could leave when he wanted... to my astonishment, I watched his vital signs begin dropping within 10 minutes and he was gone within another 5 minutes.
My father is who introduced my brother and I to Stanford football. The earliest memory that I have of my life was walking with my father, holding his hand... to Stanford Stadium. I was three years old. After that first game, my brother and I spent every fall Saturday with our father watching and screaming for Stanford.
60+ years later I mentioned to my father Saturday afternoon (while he laid in his hospital bed) that Stanford was on TV that evening against USC. He was very ill from radiation/chemotherapy treatments he had just had but gave me every indication that the thought of the upcoming game intrigued him. I do not know if he watched any of the game... or even if he knew the outcome... but I hope, I hope, I hope.
Love you Dad.
He was just beginning to be treated for a very aggressive cancer in a tumor on one of kidneys. The tumor and cancer was discovered only weeks ago and he took a quick turn for the worse yesterday morning while in the hospital. Due to complications he was put on 100% oxygen and was not conscious. I was with him for the afternoon and my wife and I debated if we should bring my mother over to visit/say goodbye. Due to her mind erasing dementia we knew this could go bad but decided to get her anyway. It turned out to be a wonderful decision. She hovered over him for approx an hour and spoke to him quietly and would cry at times. She was confused at times, but overall she was beautiful with her dying husband. My mother and father were young sweet-hearts and married and had children in their late teens. They were in love and were devoted to each other for the last 65 years.
After my wife took her away, I sat next to my father and told him that my brother and I would take care of mom...that she was happy in her care facility. I told him he could stop fighting at anytime... he could leave when he wanted... to my astonishment, I watched his vital signs begin dropping within 10 minutes and he was gone within another 5 minutes.
My father is who introduced my brother and I to Stanford football. The earliest memory that I have of my life was walking with my father, holding his hand... to Stanford Stadium. I was three years old. After that first game, my brother and I spent every fall Saturday with our father watching and screaming for Stanford.
60+ years later I mentioned to my father Saturday afternoon (while he laid in his hospital bed) that Stanford was on TV that evening against USC. He was very ill from radiation/chemotherapy treatments he had just had but gave me every indication that the thought of the upcoming game intrigued him. I do not know if he watched any of the game... or even if he knew the outcome... but I hope, I hope, I hope.
Love you Dad.
