My father is still dying today. I spent an hour with him this morning. Just us.
I reminded him of how we used to swim all morning in the river at the old farm. Afterwards we’d eat pie for lunch and then nap all afternoon.
I told him that he’s in the napping portion of those perfect days. We’re all swum out, and filled to the rim with Nana’s homemade cherry pie. There’s nothing to do now but sleep.
Then I said, “your ole gal loves you,” and kissed him on the head.