The boys and I got on the plane alone and worried. Joe wasn't able to come with us. He was told it wasn't his father. So, I had to fly over 24 hours with three boys and the stress of my dad.
I kept telling myself that when we landed if nobody was there to pick us up it was a good sign. A sign that dad was alive still, but if there was family then most likely he passed.
Over 24 hours came and we landed in El Paso for the hour drive to Las Cruces where my dad was hospitalized. My sister and brother were there and I felt devastated......but they had smiles on their faces. Relief came over me and we collected our bags and headed off to the hospital.
After picking up some drive through McDonald's because airplane food can be less than appetizing we made it to the hospital. We were able to spend some time with him and I finally made it back to the hotel at 10pm, put the boys to bed and then we were called back into the hospital at 3am. Chase and I had slept for maybe 2-3 hours. He had a hard time with the jet lag. The boys and I were exhausted mentally and physically.
Dad was dying. He held on for a few more hours and then it was time. I am so thankful that he held on for me to get there, that I was able to see him one last time.
Tomorrow is one year of no phone calls, no jokes, no crazy singing. The boys really miss his crazy songs.
We miss you Papa.
