I decided that I would write this post for me. It's not for anybody else even though everyone is faced with this eventually.

It's been 6 days since I blogged. I would have done better but I got a call 4 days ago that my father had passed away in his sleep. He'd been suffering for the last couple of years with pulmonary fibrosis (black-lung disease). This disease has no cure. Any treatment is to prolong life and ease the symptoms. When I saw him Christmas, I didn't expect him to make it to Easter. Neither did any of my siblings (7 of us). Thank God he proved us all wrong. For the last few months, every breath was a struggle. He's been on oxygen 24/7. Baths took 4 hours because he had to rest each step of the way.

So now he's gone but never forgotten. He's in a better place. He can play golf until sunset then poker for a couple of hours in the clubhouse. It never rains and no worries about the cops busting the game. He can sleep through the Braves games and nobody will change the channel and wake him up. (Never knew how he could do that) The pain for him is gone. He's with his father, mother, and 2 brothers. At peace at last.

For me the pain will wane as time goes by. As I've grown older, I've realized how much wisdom my father had to pass on to us. I realize how much more like my father I become as years go by. Overall, it's not a bad thing. He loved to win. He hated a bunch of commotion. He loved his family. He'll be missed but never forgotten.