Today is my mom and dad's anniversary. They have been married 56 years today. August 30, 1950.

My dad has been in Hospice since last Thursday. Everyday he gets worse. He is swollen and gaunt at the same time. His skin feels weirder every day. His breathing is more and more erradic. Deep and fast, then shallow and slow. I know what that means. His urine output gets smaller and smaller. It does not surprise me that he is still here for their anniversary though. And it will not surprise me if he passes today or tomorrow.

Three nights ago I got to talk to my dad alone. I am very very fortunate. I am so grateful that I got this opportunity. I said everything I needed to say to him. And he heard me. He was awake and heard me and acknowledged it. He was awake alot that night. I spent the night with him that night and the next. I played his favorite music, and put on some of his favorite movies. And held his hand. The first night I stayed I left Hospice and went to Walmart. I bought a $4 bible and a hershey bar. I came back and told him I was going to read to him. I read him all of his favorite passages. I read the 23rd psalm. 3 times. I read the Sermon on the Mount. I read Psalms 91. I always remember he knew that one well. He used to try to comfort me with it when I was hurt or sad. I cried through all of them, but I kept reading.

When I was in 6th grade I was hospitilized with colitis. A reaction from an antibiotic I was allergic to. I had a crack in my intestine, was in alot of pain, very scared, and now I know I could have easily gone septic, that the potential for it being really serious was probably alot higher than me or my parents knew. My dad was the pillar of peace. I remember my dad at my hospital bed, by ourselves. He prayed with me. He told me to always remember this verse: "Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on Thee." I have always remembered that verse. It has always stayed with me. In hard times, in stressful times, in painful times. And each and everytime I claimed it I felt an overwhelming sense of peace. Felt a higher power surround me and I cannot describe the sense I felt. I will always remember this verse. I don't even know where it is found in the bible. That night I leaned over him, and spoke those words very quietly to him. I know he heard me. I broke a piece of the chocolate bar off, and let him taste it. It is the last thing he will ever taste. I wanted it to be something good. He was always so very good to me. Always. I tried to surround him with his favorite and most precious things. His music, his movies, his favorite verses, and his family - I brought the kids down that day and they all got to see him, and have him see them one last time. He acted like he knew them. He spoke to Sydney. He was very awake at that time.

My dad is now in a morphine coma. With ativan for any breakthrough awareness. He did open his eyes last night for a little while.

My mom is angry. At everyone. At everything. At the nurses. At me for staying down here. At any visitors. At Peggy. At family for being concerned about her. At anyone leaving a message on the phone letting us know they are thinking about us. At me for bringing her soup because she isn't eating. At me for wanting to play his music for him. At me for letting people who loved him know he is close to passing. She didn't want to tell anyone, and didn't. Not his brothers, or old friends, or anyone. I did, because I thought it was right for those people who loved my dad to know this is happening. I don't know if what I did was right. She has been mean, and hateful for days, and finally told me to leave. To go back up to the mountains. She has told me I don't know what he likes because I wasn't ever around enough.

My dad is what is important right now. Not any of the differences between me and my mom. But I have been asked to leave. I am hurt, and do not wish to be around her when she is so hateful. I will stay until he passes. Then I will go. Forever.

I am staying with Heather now. I really am beside myself with how she has been there for me. I called her up in the middle of the night and told her I needed a place to stay. She opened her house with no questions asked, unconditionally. Her fridge is mine, her bed is mine, her car is mine, her phone is mine, her shower is mine. The morning she brought me home that I was so upset she hooked me up with wine, vicodin and a couple hits. It was the best I had felt in a week. Then I crashed on her couch. She gave me clothes to wear and food to eat. I can not express the feeling of being around someone who truly loves you when you are hurting so bad. Her home is such a haven of peace for me right now. I love you Heather. Forever.

When I was hungry you gave me something to eat.

When I was thirsty you gave me something to drink.

Let's see.... where did I read that?

I love you Heather.

I told my dad I loved him. So much. That he was the best dad ever, and meant it. I told him I was going to miss him so much. That if anyone ever showed me Jesus character it was him. I thanked him for teaching me about God. I told him thank you for adopting me. I told him I was so sorry this was happening to him. I told him he would always be with me.

And then I fell asleep at his bedside holding his hand. His big, strong wonderful hand. His hands were always so strong to me. Stained and calloused and strong enough to fix anything.

My mom doesn't know about the chocolate.

Hopefully he will pass soon. This is so cruel.

Then I'll drive so fucking far away I never cross her mind.
Then I will go back to the mountains.

May my dad have perfect peace while he is walking through the Valley of the Shadow of Death.

I love you Dad.