Thoughts from a tired daughter
You were all right: Hospice in general is amazing and Davis Hospice in particular is just...wow. Dad loves it there.
I have seen my dad cry more in the past few hours than in the entire rest of my life combined. This is neither good nor bad.
I had no idea how terrified Dad was that he would die in London. That man fought tooth and nail to get home to the place and people he loves.
The Cheyenne Chamber Singers (of which Dad was a founding member in 1991) are a wonderful bunch of people with lovely voices. He got his own private concert. Sean..."thank you" doesn't even begin to scratch the surface.
It turns out I remember the alto 2 parts to Shenandoah and the Irish Blessing after more than 20 years. It was nice to sing them again.
I am not, nor will I ever be, angry at my father for making this choice (I had to tell him this after the second or third time he apologized for it). But we agreed that just because it's the right choice doesn't mean we have to like it. And we don't. Not one little bit.
My parents have the best marriage in the history of marriages. I mean it's really just awe inspiring.
I feel much better now that I'm here. Not sure how long that will last, but I'll take it.
Dear God, but I'm tired.