No one has given me a definitive death sentence yet. Of course, I know I’ll die one day. But, I haven’t been told I have X months to live. My secret wish is the same as everyone’s with whom I’ve ever had the conversation; “Dear Lord, When it comes time to take me home, please do it swiftly and in one fell-swoop, i.e., none of this lingering around more than a few hours in a hospital bed, OK?” But, while I continue to negotiate with God on that issue, my illnesses have been serious enough and become progressively worse to give me more than a little pause. Perhaps a bit of preparation for that final day of my life on earth would not be such a bad idea. So, I have begun to prepare for that certain day on some unknown future date. Nothing morose, nothing out in left field. Just engaging in a little settling of affairs. The other prompt for this post comes as a result of my Mother’s death about six months ago. Now that she is gone, I feel free to express myself. It feels like a bird must feel having been let out of her cage for the first time in a very long time. Doing so while my Mother was alive might not have been respectful of her nor welcomed by her. In settling some of my affairs, there are certain matters that I feel compelled to make public, not just handle privately, and you will soon learn why I might feel that this post about my Dad merits public handling.   Read more...