It Has Happened ...
Steph's father passed away at 1:30 a.m. this morning.
Hospice was wonderful and I cannot recommend them enough.
He fell into a coma about 10:30 p.m. last night and died about three hours later.
It's been hectic.
We waited for Hospice to come and then a deputy had to also come and do some paperwork.
At about 6 a.m. this morning, people started coming. It's been quite lovely and I've heard more stories about him than I could have ever imagined.
Like the time in 1956 when he gave himself a mohawk and rode naked through the bottoms of the Obion County River (before his dad caught him.)
His pet piranha.
His pet tarantula.
When Steph's beloved Staffordshire Bull Terrier died, he held her for hours before he buried her.
Buying a motorcycle in 1957 and hiding it in a ditch for months without anyone knowing about it.
How he like to scare his daughters when they were camping (and scaring the bejeezus out of the boys because he knew they would eventually show up.)
They are at the river now, as I sit here alone, toasting to the man they loved. Who lived and died on his own terms.
I called my own father, and I really wish he would come out here and give me a hug. He was kind, and sweet and generous. He is meeting me on Tuesday because he knows that I have to support the people with the loss, but I need some comfort and he is coming to give it.
As for Steph's dad, we loved him. He was a good guy.
He will be missed.