Last night, after seeing my dad completely restless and nervous and jittery and unable to speak words or take steps on his own, I prayed not for the miracle of healing for my dad, but just for his release from his body.
This morning, when my mom woke up, my dad wasn't breathing. She called and I rushed over there, before changing into regular clothes or changing Portia's diaper. He passed away early this morning.
I knew this was imminent, but it's still so hard to see.
My head is pounding from crying.
The funeral's on Thursday.
