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February 15, 2013
This is the day my father died. It happened at 5:30 in the morning. I had been up with him since 4:00 am. He was peacefully sleeping, but we continued his morphine to assist with breathing throughout the night. I built a fire in the family room fireplace, Dad's hospital bed nearby. He loved having a fire. He knew his days were limited, so he was going to forgo the cord of wood this fall, but was easily convinced to buy. Today the wood crackles and brings warmth. I hope he could admire the scene he left behind.