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2003-05-26 - 8:51 p.m.

Currently reading: Wired Magazine, Trout Fishing in America, Shakespeare: Sonnets

Currently listening to: Chantal Kreviazuk

Quote O' The Day: To see a world in a grain of sand

And heaven in a wild flower,

Hold infinity in the palm of your hand

And eternity in an hour. William Blake

My Dad died Saturday, 19 February 2000.

He died in his sleep, peacefully. He usually slept late and my Mother went in to awake him about noon. She slapped him on the leg as usual, and then felt he was cold. She said he looked liked he was sleeping. They had been married for 58 years.

I last saw him Wednesday when I went over for lunch. We argued some sports, talked about how the past two or three years had been the best in their life. Living in a gated retirement community, they'd come a long way: A wife and five kids in the housing projects to a comfortable middle class.

They were extremely social people. The night before he died, they played their usual Friday night card game. He was happy, mentally and physically healthy and died a good death at the age of 82. As my Father aged, I worried about sickness and disease, But he couldn't have checked out in a better way. This was a natural, peaceful process. They had made arrangements years ago, so everything went smoothly. There was a small service, mostly family. My Mother is saving the ashes in a box to be mixed with hers when she dies.

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