Summer is over and I'm back home with my mom, dad and Katie. In September of 1970, my dad went into the hospital for what would be the last time. I didn't realize it at the time, but I knew he was really sick.
On November 7th, my Uncle Jim took me to the hospital. My dad's family were always staying with us. They would come from Dundalk, Orangeville and Fonthill to see my dad on weekends. Anyway, Jim took me to the hospital to see my dad. I remember him telling the security guard, "He's going up to see his father." The Navy hospitals were very strict about the age limits for visitors.
I got to spend the whole afternoon with my dad watching a football game on T.V. He was still smoking through a tube. Whenever he wanted a cigarette, someone would come in and light it for him and put it in a little stand. He'd just keep the tube in his mouth. It had been 2 or 3 months since I had seen him so I was glad for the time to spend with him.
I guess I was a little naive at 10, because it didn't dawn on me till a long while later, just why I had gotten to see my dad that day. Sometime that night, my dad died. A week later I went back to school. I sometimes wondered if anybody knew what had just happened. Nobody said anything to me.
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