A nurse held an iPad in front of my Oldman as he tried to speak through his labored breathing. He didn’t have much energy left as he mumbled across the Zoom call.
The last thing he said was, “You magnificent son of a bitch…….”
I watched him laying in bed with the Friday afternoon sunlight shining across his face. The nurse told me that he fell back asleep and I thanked her for going the extra mile for my dad and I….
That was three years ago yesterday. I didn’t realize the day until lunchtime. I was standing at my trading desk when it hit me.
He was the age that I am today, thirty years ago. I’ll be his final age in twenty seven years.
Twenty seven more Thanksgivings, twenty seven more birthdays, twenty seven more losing seasons at Comiskey and Soldiers, twenty seven more spring times.
I hope I’m not alone with a stranger holding an iPad over my dying face the last time I mutter something to the Shepkids.
“Hazel…. Take care of these two magnificent sonsabitches….”
HumpDay
