LegacyNone of us left for good. People stepped away only to come back in again with coffee, tea, scones, donuts, and moist sandwiches from the cafeteria. And everyone, no matter who we were or how long we’d known Dad, took turns telling stories.
Nurses in light pink uniforms had to run back and forth to organize more tissues because no eye stayed dry, but not all tears were bad – we laughed. We loved. All intermingled with pain and grief, but the glimmers of these wonderful feelings stayed.
And the more time I spent with these old friends and strangers people all around me, the more awed I was by this man and the network of connection he’d built up in the evening of his life.
I had no idea something like this was even possible, and he’d… he’d done it. When he was seventy, no less.
At s
