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I started this post early in the summer and never finished it....
Its been an emotional summer.  My Dad was admitted to Roswell Park Cancer Institute for the first two weekends in May, the third weekend he attended my nephews first communion, and the following week was admitted again.  He was diagnosed with Colitis and then became Septic.  He slowly improved but his bone marrow refused to kick in.  After 4-5 transfusions a week and shots to help produce blood cells, the Doctors met with us.  They told us there wasn't any more they could do.  My Dad hasn't been eating normally since he had the stem cell transplant.  The Doctors said sometimes when the chemo kills all of the bad cells/bacteria it also destroys the good cells/bacteria. 


Yesterday my Dad was transferred to Hospice.  He is sleeping 99% of the time.  Yesterday he groaned and nodded his head when I spoke to him.  I have been going almost every day to visit.  The hospital is about 30 minutes away and Hospice will be about 20.  The kids have been great.  Evan knows Grandpa won't survive but it hasn't completely hit him yet.  My Dad had promised Evan this huge Lego and wanted to give it to him.  So Saturday we had Grandpa give it to him and it brought him such joy to see Evan dance around with excitement.  Evan was so sweet he told me I really want the Arkham Assylum Lego but I want Grandpa to come home more.  My Dad is afraid the kids won't remember him.  I hope they always do.  I was trying to remember my first experience with death.  I think I was around 4 when my Great Grandma passed away.  I can remember going to her apartment and having fig newton cookies, I remember what her bathroom looks like but not what she looked like other than from one or two pictures.