An Anniversary

Today is the first anniversary of my father’s passing.  It seems like only yesterday I was with my family at the hospital. For almost a week people stopped by to pay their respects and say goodbye. My mother spent every night on a cot next to his bed.  Understandably she wanted to spend the last days as close as possible to him. I was there every day, waiting, watching and praying for his release.  I held his hand, stroked his head and told him how much I loved him.

He did not seem to suffer. The last massive stroke left him unconscious and in a coma.  Soon after he was admitted he developed pneumonia. The doctors knew it was a matter of time.  With each passing day the realization that he would no longer be a part of my life grew stronger.

So today, I remember the best of my father’s 88 years.  On Yom Kippur I will light a candle in his honor.  I will say a prayer for him.

BarbaraToday is the first anniversary of my father’s passing.  It seems like only yesterday I was with my family at the hospital. For almost a week people stopped by to pay their respects and say goodbye. My mother spent every night on a cot next to his bed.  Understandably she wanted to spend the last days as close as possible to him. I was there every day, waiting, watching and praying for his release.  I held his hand, stroked his head and told him how much I loved him.

He did not seem to suffer. The last massive stroke left him unconscious and in a coma.  Soon after he was admitted he developed pneumonia. The doctors knew it was a matter of time.  With each passing day the realization that he would no longer be a part of my life grew stronger.

So today, I remember the best of my father’s 88 years.  On Yom Kippur I will light a candle in his honor.  I will say a prayer for him.

Barbara