When I got up this morning, my cell phone had messages. My father died this morning.
Kenny was diagnosed with stage 3 lung cancer in January. He was a smoker, so that didn't come as a surprise. He had chemotherapy and radiation treatments, and was doing well for awhile.
Maybe not as well as everyone thought, because he was just that kind of person.
He developed pneumonia in October and I was asked to fly to WI and see him. I thought that might be the end of his journey then, but he came through it. He was almost back to his old self when we left.
He had recently moved to a rehab facility to gain some strength. I don't know everything that transpired, but it's okay. The fact is, he has some measure of peace now, hopefully as consiousness or spirit. I leave room for doubt, but even in that I know at least he's not in pain.
That's a major source of gratitude for me.