So, I was talking to my sister on Christmas eve and before we said our goodbyes, she asked me if I had talked to Dad lately. I told her I had talked to him briefly the day before. She said they had offered him Dialysis to help drain the fluid around his heart and he had refused it.

I thought about it a moment and told her I agree and support his decision. It would be different if he were a candidate for a transplant, but this is purely to prelong life with no end in sight. It is painful and to quote Bones on StarTrek, "it's a barbaric custom."

My sister told me his arthritis was too painful for him to continue painting. She worries that his quality of life is failing him and he might be giving up.

She may be right, but I don't count him out until the bell has rung. I believe he enjoys what happens as it happens. He lives in the moment and finds laughter and joy with his many fellow residents and staff at the Missouri Veteran's Home.

I talked to him yesterday and, after playing phone tag, we laughed...a lot. It is our way to ignore painful goodbyes. We know we love each other and always end our conversations with that thought.

Ciao
Papa