Then he’d add, be super-damn careful.
I lost my dad in January. I miss him every minute of every day. So I’m reblogging this entry from Brandon Ferdig. Enjoy.
There’s a void in my heart. I miss him. Always did my best for him, and him for me. I will always love him, and we’ll meet again at the rainbow bridge.
“If there are no dogs in heaven, then when I die I want to go where they went.” – Will Rogers
“He is my other eyes that can see above the clouds; my other ears that hear above the winds. He is the part of me that can reach out into the sea. He has told me a thousand times over that I am his reason for being; by the way he rests against my leg; by the way he thumps his tail at my smallest smile; by the way he shows his hurt when I leave without taking him. (I think it makes him sick with worry when he is not along to care for me.) When I am wrong, he is delighted to forgive. When I am angry, he clowns to make me smile. When I am happy, he is joy unbounded. When I am a fool, he ignores it. When I succeed, he brags. Without him, I am only another man. With him, I am all-powerful. He is loyalty itself. He has taught me the meaning of devotion. With him, I know a secret comfort and a private peace. He has brought me understanding where before I was ignorant. His head on my knee can heal my human hurts. His presence by my side is protection against my fears of dark and unknown things. He has promised to wait for me… whenever… wherever – in case I need him. And I expect I will – as I always have. He is just my dog.” – Gene Hill
I first mentioned him here.
He slipped away gently at about 11:30 pm. Mercifully.
I have never known a better man than my dad. If you ever met him, you would agree.
Godspeed, Dad, and I’ll see you on the other side.
Seventy-eight years old, a tough American Scotsman, as strong as a horse and as resilient as a rubber band. But as the doctor told us, he reached a tipping point the other day. Started to experience chest pains and shortness of breath. He’s been diagnosed with COPD, asbestosis, and emphysema.
He’s been hospitalized for a week and a half, and we’re not sure how soon he’ll be discharged to home. We do know that he’s always been a fighter and is not going to give up.
His positive attitude is amazing and inspiring. When the doctor told us that he had ruled out mesothelioma, the relief and joy on Dad’s face flooded the room. Despite the other diagnoses.
I have never known a better man than my dad. If you met him, you would say the same. Prayers, healing energy, positive thoughts, white light – whatever you can send his way will be appreciated.