It was time... To head south.

This particular week was long and chaotic.

I had known since my parent's Anniversary Party back on June 14th that my Father's time here was going to come to an end, very soon.

For the past 14 years we have been riding what feels like a roller coaster through each of his miraculous tales of survival. Each challenge seemed worse than the last; Esophageal Cancer, Quadruple Heart Bypass, Endemic Cardiomyopathy, Injury caused by falls, Diabetic comas, and Pneumonia...

From May to present of this year, my Father has had pneumonia 5 times. This was the first indication I had that something was finally standing in the way of this challenge.

After poking, prodding, testing, scanning, MRI, endoscopy after endoscopy, ultrasounds and more, they were able to determine that he was aspirating food and bile into his lungs.

I had decided over the previous weekend to fly to San Jose and to address some of the necessary things that we needed to now think about; Advanced Directive/DNR status, end of life wishes, estate issues, life insurance issues, all of the things that I have been entrusted to handle by my Father and Mother.

It was Monday, June 29th while waiting at the airport in Portland, Oregon I received a call from my brother. My mother had been admitted to the hospital for pneumonia.

Both of them, in the hospital, on the same floor but in separate rooms (thankfully).

I arrived and spent the next three days visiting both of them, giving my brother a break from taking care of the house, and trying to get my bearings on the direction I needed to be headed in.

By Wednesday I was able to take my mother home from the hospital.

I had to hop on a plane that evening and made another stop by the hospital to see my Dad.

At this point, he was more than pissed off about still being in the hospital. There are many reasons why he was continually subjected to more tests all of which I hope to cover in the next few days.

I realize that, by being very honest about my observations, I may be upsetting people that care about me. I feel that it is important to be really honest and to bring to light some of my own beliefs about a person's quality of life and suffering.

My father and I talked about his fears, his concerns about my Mother currently, and after he dies, and he spoke of his gratitude for my being there. He was scared and I think he knew that things were not looking good.

The last vision of my Father that afternoon became a recurring image in my mind. I had to walk away just as he was being wheeled away on a guerney to have a procedure performed.