My father is slowly bleeding to death. All we can do is watch and wait. He and I have always had a volatile relationship stemming from painful childhoods - his and mine. I really thought there was nothing more he could teach me about life. But I was wrong. He is teaching me how to die. He has refused anymore transfusions that were barely keeping up with the constant slow trickle of blood leaving his body. He says "why waste good blood?" Tired of fighting this relentless foe, he is resigned to his fate - calm, at peace and even joking about his situation. I am awed with his attitude. I told him he was very brave. I hope I can accept death - welcome it when it is my time - as remarkably as he is doing.
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I'd say you are in for a strange ride Maureen. I'm glad your Father can give you back something besides hurt and pain, it's amazing how, after everything we put up with, the bond still remains and there is still a little light there.
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