My Dad passed away back in 2007. He was 85 years old. I have all the wonderful memories of our hunting, shooting, and fishing throughout the years. He was a WWII vet and my hero.
Cherish everything and every minute with your Dad. Time flies by and we are soon left with just our memories.
Just so happens I’m going over to see him today, he was married to my Mom for 67 years before she passed away. we’ve got him set up in an assited living place and he’s doing fine. Has his own apartment and they cook 3 meals a day and keep his place clean. He can’t see anymore but he loves to sit and listen to his audio books. I’ll take him out to the patio and we’ll sit and talk and might even drink a little whisky. Pop survived hitting the beach at Tarawa even though he was shot in the leg he kept fighting and wasn’t removed until two days later. He shoke my hand and gave me a big hug when I was getting on the plane in Frisco headed to Vietnam and was there when they brought me back 11 months later after I was wounded in 71. He didn’t leave my side for a month until I was released to travel. I don’t think the word Hero properly describes my feelings for Pop but I can’t think of a better one.