It's hard to believe that it has been twelve years since my Dad passed away.

He had been diagnosed with a brain tumor in April of 1993. He did pretty well through the rest of that year, through Christmas. But after the first of the year, he became bedfast. We put a hospital bed in the living room there on Wall Street. He gradually became unresponsive, but we sat with him and talked to him. I would spend a few days a week in Ft. Scott, helping Mom and sitting up with Dad - watching college basketball and old TV shows through the night (and eating Cocoa Krispies). On Friday afternoon, March 11, 1994, Mom and I were sitting next to his bed. We were just chatting when we noticed that he had stopped breathing.

Twelve years.
Sometimes it seems like just yesterday.
Sometimes it seems like a lifetime ago.
Erin and Stacy were just ten and seven.

Late last night I watched the video that the funeral home gave us when he died. Six or seven minutes of pictures of Dad and his life. It had been a while since I had watched it.

But I think about him every day.