We had lost Ted's Dad the previous month. We both agreed that our Moms were probably better able to handle being alone rather than our Dads. And now all we have left is Ted's Mom.
Only Dad's age was 85 - you would have never thought he was that old. I told you he had two favorite sayings. The one I remember and use the most is the phrase on his hat.
You'd be surprised how many times you think about that phrase when you're trying to remember how many ounces in something, or what does a something measure.
My Dad was the Go-To guy in the neighborhood. Anytime someone had a plumbing problem, needed a tool, or wanted something fixed, he was the one they called. Since his death, there have been so many times that Ted and I would think about calling him for advice on one thing or another.
There were times growing up that he was my biggest enemy, but as an adult, he was my biggest fan. He loved woodworking, chatting on the computer with his buddies, U of L sports, his Oh Hell card group, and animals (despite acting like he didn't!). He adored my Mom . . . . . . . adored her. . . . . . . put her on a pedestal . . . . . . did anything and everything for her. I think that is partly why she only lasted seven months without him.
He had a small stroke with few side effects. In doing testing in the hospital, they discovered he had pancreatic cancer. The cancer had already traveled to the liver. He spent some time in a rehab facility, and all he wanted to do was go home. We finally got him home, and one week later he died. He survived about two months after diagnosis. We were with him when it happened. It was the first time I've actually witnessed someone dying. It's something you never forget. And then we did it all over again seven months later. And I'll never forget that either.