The Day the Rain Fell: Remembering My Father’s Last Spring
In Loving Memory My Father's Death on a Rainy Spring Afternoon I always assumed I had more time with my parents. You don't really question it — you just take it for granted that they'll always be there. For me, that quiet illusion ended on May 3rd, on a rainy spring afternoon, when my father passed away. I was by his side at the end. It felt like the least I could do as his son. And in a strange way, I was grateful — grateful that I was actually there with him in that moment, instead of somewhere far away, staring at a screen. His final moments still play over and over in my mind. He had been lying there with his eyes closed, his breathing labored. Then, suddenly, he opened his eyes. Tears welled up and slowly slid down both of his cheeks. He let out a deep sigh, shifted slightly as if uncomfortable, and closed his eyes once more. I didn't know it then, but that would be the last time I would ever see his eyes. His breathing grew quieter and quie...