Monday and Tuesday (Feb. 20-21) weren't great days. By that I mean I was at work but all I could think about was Dad. Everyone there kept coming up to me asking me how he was doing. Which was nice, but didn't help with the trying not to think about it.
But I did my work as best I could and kept living on. You have to.
Again, Wednesday, Feb. 22, was the same. I got through the day and went home. I was hoping with all hope that Dad would be home this day. There were some thoughts by his doctor that he might be able to go home by then, but unfortunately, they wanted to keep him around a few more days.
The worst part of that day was that it was Dad's birthday and he had to spend it in the hospital. However, when I spoke to him, which I had done everyday since I left, he sounded good, he was laughing, he said things were going well and that he felt better every day.
This made me feel good. But what I decided around this time, since he wasn't going to get to go home now until probably Friday, Feb. 24, was that I wouldn't drive in that weekend. I decided it would be best to just let Mom get him home and settled and then the next weekend I could come in and hang out with him.
That was his last birthday.
He was 59.
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