We went to see Dad tonight. He was the most talkative and aware he's been in a long time... and yet, he wasn't. See, Dad was chatting with me, holding my hand, telling me he loves me. Then he stopped in the middle of a sentence with a puzzled look on his face. Then he said, "You know what? You remind me of somebody I met sometime. Yeah, you look like my daughter. She's a pretty girl like you. I haven't seen her in a while." Then he dozed off for a minute. When he woke up, he knew who I was again. But then he asked, "Who's the kid?" He meant Jamie. When I said that that's my son, he looked again and said, "Oh. Have I met him?" I'm really glad Jamie had on headphones and was listening to music and didn't hear what Dad said.
As we were getting ready to leave, Dad looked me in the eyes and said, "I know I don't have much time left. I'm not going to live long." The he said something to the effect that he didn't want to spend his last days in the hospital, and I had to tell him he had to stay because he was very sick and I couldn't take care of him like he needed. He started to cry, and said, "Please please please take me home." I held his hand for a minute while he dozed off, then he woke back up and said, "You're a nice girl. Come back and see me sometime."
I will, Daddy. For however long you have left, I'll keep on coming back to see you.