A Hero Is Gone

Three days after my last post, my father died. He died in his sleep with my stepmother holding his hand. That is the way he wanted it. The week before I called my brother and sister and told them they needed to come. My brother came on Tuesday, but my sister lives out of the country and she had trouble getting a flight out. Then she had trouble with her flight and didn't get here until Saturday. When my father saw her, he said "I've been waiting for you." He was so frail and weak. He wanted to sit on the side of the bed so we helped him sit up and my brother and sister sat on either side of him. He looked around and said "I love everyone one of you." He said that twice and then he said "Amen" very emphatically. Those were the last words I heard my father speak. Can't think of better ones. He died the next morning.

We travelled to San Antonio to bury him with full military honors at Fort Sam Houston National Cemetery. He is with my mother now. It was a beautiful ceremony and he received all the honor he deserved. Then he wanted us to all have a dinner and celebrate his life. And we did that. We shared stories and laughed and cried. Later that evening, some of us walked the Riverwalk and then ended up in the bar of the hotel. Then we really told stories and laughed. We told the stories like how my father borrowed a brand new ski boat from a total stranger. He was an amazing man.