Tuesday, February 8, 2011


My son entered the kitchen with a strained look on his. I questioned the look and he said, "Pops, I was thinking about Pops."

I asked him had he prepared himself for the day he may die. He said he doesn't think he will cry. "I want to think I've cried my last tear over him."

I shared with him that I have cried whenever I felt like it when I think of him not being here because he is dead. I told my son not to be surprised if I didn't cry when it finally happened. "I don't want you to think something is strange, Sonny. That is why I am telling you now."

When I came home today, my husband actually mentioned going to the hospital, but he didn't go. He had been throwing up all night and the moment he woke up, he began again. What a way to go. He find some relief if only he would do what is right, but as I have learned over the past 25 years, he can't do right for being so wrong.

We love him and we do all we can to help. It is hard on us all, but I do think when the time comes there will be some relief.

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