I agree with Sally. Death is as much a part of our lives as living. I don't write much about Daddy's death, because losing him is still so painful for me, but I will offer this. During the final weeks, my sister (four) and I, along with Mother, and a few close friends, never left his side. He was in a coma-like state, but from time to time, would look or glaze at one of us, almost like saying, "I'm listening girls, keep going." We talked him thru to heaven. I will always believe this.

We discussed our childhood days, who got the most spankings (yes, it was moi), and who was the best child, how Daddy would dress up as Santa, how Mother would ground us and only let us work jigsaw puzzles, the pets we had, the boyfriends and how scared they were of Daddy... and on and on and on... we did this up until the minute he died. And then we played, "What a wonderful world" by Louie Armstrong so he could leave this world with a song in his heart. The death was as beautiful as we could make it. I have no regrets and wouldn't trade these memories for all of the gold in the world.

JJ