Dave's dad had a massive stoke early last week.
His left side was paralyzed by it, his face was contorted, his left eye could no longer open, and he lost his ability to speak and swallow.
His advance directive stated no heroic measures, so hospice care was brought in, and he was kept comfortable in his room at the memory care center.
They lifted their restrictions for visiting, and Dave went the next day to visit him.
Pop was was awake, and tried to smile and speak when Dave showed him a picture of himself as a young man.
Dave got to look in his remaining good eye and tell him he loved him,
Dave's eldest brother set up a "face time" call, and the nurse held the phone so Pop could see Mike, on that same day.
The middle brother didn't call, and didn't come down from Kansas until yesterday, and by then, Pop was no longer conscious.
Pop passed away a few hours after Larry visited. Pop was 89.
Mike is coming up from Galveston to do his executor duties. He will be sleeping on our couch, since the guest room is my office now.
Given that sad news, I don't really have that much else to say this week.
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