I got word at about 2:00 p.m. Friday, September 5, that my Dad had passed away a little earlier that day, peacefully, and in his sleep.
He had Grade 4 brain cancer (for those who don't know) - glioblastoma multiforme - it was diagnosed late last November, and he underwent surgery, radiation, and three rounds of chemo before giving up on that (it nearly killed him the third time around) and letting the cancer take over.
He had asked to be brought home from Hospice several weeks ago - insisted on it, really. It was hard for my stepmom at first, but she hired round-the-clock nursing care for him and that eased her anxiety a bit.
He had basically been paralyzed since about July. He could feel his arms and legs, but could not move his legs at all and could not sit up on his own in bed. So he was bedridden. His speech really started to go a few months ago.
My oldest brother finally went to see him the weekend before he died. He had not seen him since last August (2007), and didn't go after multiple requests for him from my Dad and stepmom. He left on a Sunday, and my Dad refused to eat or drink starting the following Monday. He was started on morphine on Wednesday because he was moaning in pain/discomfort and having difficulty breathing.
I have been preparing for this for a while. I hope it doesn't sound cold, but I feel mostly relieved that he is finally at peace. I know he hated what his life had become. I'm thankful that I went to see him several times over the last 9 months, and that we had some really nice talks before he got to the point that he could neither talk nor listen anymore.
His funeral was on a Tuesday in Charlotte, NC, and it was beautiful.
Wake me up when September ends.