January 2017

The Grace of Dying Well

It was the phone call no one wants to receive. The words I heard hit me like a sucker punch: “Your father has suffered a stroke.”

To that point, my dad had enjoyed an unusually active, vibrant life into his late eighties. He embraced each day with an energy beyond his years and a contagious joy. He seemed indestructible. Dad had served tirelessly and without complaint as caregiver during the extended illnesses of both my mother and stepmother. Now suddenly, he was the one who was vulnerable, his future uncertain.