Two years ago today, after my Dad being sick all night, I rode in the ambulance with him to the emergency room. They called in a "code three" lights and sirens. Unable to get a BP or temp. My Mom watched us leave from the front door. We got there and he "came to" after fluids and some meds and told me he thought he had passed out and didn't remember getting there. He wanted to know where Mom was...she was on her way. Mom came. He got sick again and they gave him something for pain. He went out again and we had to decide on life saving measures or not. No more...he is tired. A few hours later as the nurse is adimitting him he stops breathing and I point it out to her.
I miss my funny, joke playing, loved-to-surprise-someone Daddy.