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.
Sometimes I'd go visit my father and he'd be lying on his bed, all snuggly under his blanket or robe, and he'd refuse to move. He seemed to be in a terrible funk. But then on the next visit, he'd be lively and fine.
Now, three years after that picture, I see him behaving the same way.