This day was a good one. Saturday. Dad was a lot better and eventually got into a private room. I even remember him walking that day. Crazy, right? I mean barely two days later? And he was handling it well.
That evening when he was taking his first walk, Mom and I went down to the gift shop again. The shop had these small dog replicas. I mean like fit in the palm of your hand small. They weren't exactly bobbleheads, but the heads of them did flop up and down. Anyway, they had one of a Golden Retriever puppy that looked exactly like Sammy. So, Mom bought it for him.
When we got back upstairs to Dad's room he was just getting back from the walk and was worn out. Frankly, I don't see how he did it, but he did. He was strong that way.
The nurses and therapist got him back into his bed and once he got settles Mom told him that she had something for him. She pulled it out of the bag, and like a child on Christmas morning, my Dad's eyes lit up and he said, "Sammy!!" You know, it's little things like that you never think about much until they are gone.
He ended up having a few visitors that day and finally, in his usual fashion, he told me and Mom to go home, that there was no sense in us sitting there until late. So we headed out around 9 or so.
The next day, Sunday, he had another great day. He was recovering nicely, although he still had his chest tube in, but I believe by this point his IV was removed. The chest tube was the last connection to the surgery he had.
He was in good spirits. I had driven myself to the hospital this day because I was planning to go back to Lexington so I could get back to work on Monday. Mom and I went out at one point, grabbed a bite and went to Barnes and Noble, where she got a coffee and we talked about his recovery and how it would be at home.
Mom was still working at the time and once he got home she knew that she wouldn't be able to devote the time necessary to take care of him during the day. Luckily, they would probably have some home health come in during the days to check on him. This is where I should have stepped up and offered to stay a little longer. But for some reason I felt obligated to Host Communications. A company that certainly ended up letting me down.
Anyway, we got back to the hospital. I visited with Dad some more. Around 4 o'clock he was dozing off and I knew he was ready to take a nap and I wanted to get back to Lexington before it got too late. So before he went to sleep I let him know I was going. I hugged and kissed him as usual, told him I loved him and that I would see him again soon. He said the same. I grabbed my bag and Mom walked me out. I don't remember what we said to one another but I know I hated leaving. It hurt. At the time I didn't know why. I think now that it was because I was still scared.
I put my bag in the car and drove away.
I never saw Dad alive again.
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