A wise one has left the planet. This morning, my father, 97+, took his final breath. He passed at home, in good company with family, as he so desired.
My father had one helluva run. His life was an ultra-marathon; 7 children, 10 grandchildren and 2 great grandchildren. He was married for 63 years and lived seven years after his bride passed.
A veteran of WW II, he was honorably discharged, as his mother was gravely ill and he was the sole surviving son. I’ve often thought that dad’s mother not only saved his life, but helped fascilitate the one he and my mom built.
Since moving to Florida, my dad became a huge Tampa Bay Rays fan. Many of my fondest memories with my dad were of the two of us playing catch on the front yard at our home in Iowa, taking him to Rays games and giving him the opportunity to watch my son and daughter grow up, both of whom are left-handed, as was he.
Before saying goodbye, I held my father’s left wrist and felt his pulse for the first time. His heart was beating fast as he took his final lap.
God love you, Jimmy.