Justin got up here last night. It was great to see him. There's a lot to do to get ready to bring Dad home. We're packing some things up and moving furniture so we're ready when Hospice delivers the hospital bed and equipment tomorrow morning. Well, I'm exhausted. I stayed at the hospital for two straight days and through the night. I think sleep should come easy tonight. Looking forward to seeing Dad back in the comforts of his own home. I miss my little boys.

I can't sleep. I tried to go to bed really early tonight because I wasn't feeling well today, but I just can't sleep. My pillow is all wet and cold. The tears won't stop today. This is happening sooner and faster than we tried to prepare ourselves for. Not that we'll ever be prepared or ready. But we did hope to get Dad strong enough to get up to the lake or we even talked about the family going to Italy, but now it looks as if he will be confined to his bed. Unreal. Unthinkable. Unimaginable. Unfair. I got to talk to him a little today. He mentioned an encounter with a Catholic priest during one of his previous stays in the hospital. We began talking about what we believe. I specifically asked him if he knew that God loves him, and he quickly responded that he was sure he believed that. I asked him how he felt about him having to be sick like this. He was quiet and thinking, and I said "are you mad?". He said "not at all". That's my Dad.