My Dad's favorite story during the last week of his life was about one of his recent falls. In November his health was declining to the point that it was difficult for him to stand up and walk around he and my Mom's apartment. My Mom had gone to the store and told him, “do not try to walk, you may fall!” But, my Dad decided to walk and collapsed. Lying on the floor, he started to cry out, “Help... help...” and in telling the story he'd change his voice to imitate himself in an almost comedic manner, expressing how weak his voice sounded in these last few days. He then said, with a smile, that from behind him he heard a voice that said, “Well, I'm not a nurse, but I'm a pastor!” It was his good friend, and senior pastor of he and my Mom's church here in San Antonio. This pastor is in his 80's and has cancer himself, so he was not able to lift my Dad off of the floor. Then, my Dad would say that he pointed to the window and said to the pastor, “See if someone is outside that could help.” Thankfully, by some miracle of perfect timing, there were two strong apartment maintenance workers outside that same window! The pastor waved them down and they came to help my Dad back into his chair, a chair he would be confined to for about a week until he passed away. My Dad loved telling me this story every morning when I'd come visit after working overnight and he would smile and laugh about it, thankful for his good friend's perfect timing. To me it showed that he was able to keep his sense of humor, that everyone who knew him appreciated and adored, even through all of his difficult times struggling to stay alive and fighting aging, cancer, and all of the subsequent side effects of different medicines. His strength, kindness, and love will forever be remembered in my heart. I love you Dad, your son, Tim. <3
