Tuesday, June 24, 2008
Two years ago this morning, I will never forget. It was a Saturday. I put on my favorite brown dress, and drove to the hospital, listening to hymns in the car.
I went up 6 floors and sat by my father's bed.
I held his hand until he died, two years ago, this morning.
Often I wonder, if he knows what I am doing. Often I wonder, if he sees me, just a bit.
Our relationship wasnt always wonderful.....we both always wanted to have the last word.
But....he was my dad, and I miss him.