My father died this morning. 74 years, 10 months and 4 days of stubborn, headstrong, loyal, loving, caring, tough-as-nails huggable, hot-tempered, sweet-talking Irish/Italian Dad and Pops. Best Dad I could ever have asked for. I'm going to miss you.
I am so glad I was able to spend time with him last month before he was moved to the Alzheimer's Care Center. I wasn't able to see my grandmother before she died and I didn't want to have the same regrets with my dad.
His wife is still in the hospital. Her recovery from open heart surgery isn't going well. She's had a couple strokes since surgery and is still in ICU; it's been almost a month since the surgery. She doesn't know that my dad died because the doctors don't want another setback. I'm scared and worried about what will happen to her when she's told. She was in the hospital since Memorial Day but was released pre-op for a week. She got to spend that week with my dad and had one last visit on the way back to the hospital for surgery. My siblings weren't happy she was released but in retrospect I'm glad she got that last week with him.
"Why would you ruin perfectly good peanuts by adding candy corn? That's like saying hey, I have these awesome nachos, guess I better add some dryer lint." - Nonny