My father no longer walks this earth. He’s not flying with the angels, either; he never liked to fly. I imagine he’s sitting in his comfy chair next to mom discussing the weather with her or complaining about some sports team. Or he’s taking a walk.
Dad was drafted into the army during World War II. He never saw battle, but that one act saved a life: his.
Without the medical attention from the Veteran’s Administration medical system, he would not have lived beyond his 2-year prognosis from pulmonary fibrosis. He would not have had monitoring care of his heart issues. He would not have escaped dialysis or had the care that he had for his cancer. He would not have had the support to maintain his charming good nature, his annoying-but-friendly sense of humor.
I would not have had almost 10 years to say goodbye. That was more than I could have hoped for, and yet still not enough.
Happy Memorial Day. Enjoy your walk, Dad.