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Coralmist I lost my dad in 2006. I went to visit him religiously every second day, and I hated going there. The smell, the moaning and groaning, etc was really something I wasn’t prepared for. But seeing my fathers eyes light up when I entered the room made it worth it. We never talked much. I would sneak in a bottle of wine and mix him half a glass with his gingerale. He would down it in a blink of an eye, worried the nurses would rat me out. And he’d smile while savouring his lips.
Simple things like that gave him his last few moments meaning.
I would like to add…the fresh air never smelled so good whenever I left that place. You do what you have to do.
