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I always said I was going to be ready. But are we really ever ready? Ready for that moment when one of your parents is no longer with you. I froze when I found out, I did not know what to think, do, or anything else. My heart hurt so much that day and continues to hurt. And even though I wanted to think it did not happen, that I was hearing things, it was true. Dad was sick, this I knew. But I will never forget that day when he was walking back from his room and asked my sister, "how long am I going to be like this? when am I getting better?" He wanted to live but the pain of the medical issues he was battling was stronger. He was depressed but happy when he saw us. I'm thankful that mom called me that Saturday when she did not know what to do and I was able to see him. I was able to talk to him even though he could not answer me clearly. I asked him if he was hurting, he answered no. His eyes were fixed, a tear came down his face when I asked him to hold on, I will be there on Monday. When I saw his tears, I knew he could not hold on that long, no matter how much he wanted to wait for me. I asked him to take deep breaths as he waited for my brother to get there, and he did. That alone showed me he wanted to live but his body was just giving up. Still, I had hope. After watching him for an hour my brother arrived, and I hung up. I still had hope, so I went to bed but really did not sleep. A few hours later, my phone ran, he is gone my brother said. Today is my brother's birthday and he remembers dad's birthday calls to him every year. This year there will not be a call from dad. A birthday card will not be delivered. Sometimes I wish dad will appear before me to let me know he is ok. To let me know mom will be ok. She misses him. I've seen her cry when she is alone. Be strong they say. This too shall pass. I'm not sure about the passing part, I do know that we need time. Time to heal, time to grieve, time to remember, time to cry.