My father died peacefully on February 6, 2012. I had arrived a few hours before he died, so I had time to sit by him and talk and even moisten his lips with the long-promised scotch I had with me. I don't know if he heard me, but he smacked his lips from the scotch,
My father had Alzheimer's and had donated his brain to the Alzheimer's study he'd been part of at Columbia Presbyterian Medical Center.
I'll continue to post for a while.
My father shouldn't be in a wheelchair - they could've gotten him back to a walker if he'd been walked a few times a day. But he's safer in the wheelchair. And as long as they let him be in it, he gets around wherever he wants to go. Sometimes, though, they put him in a chair, and that's the same as tying him down.