Life is but a fleeting moment in space and time. One moment you're making out a list for groceries or taking a leisure bike ride on a sunny day and the next, you're 60 years old, trying to figure out how to make four more weeks out of a day.....

A year ago this evening, I just hung up the phone with my father, hearing his voice for the last time. Live at least. I save one of his messages on my phone and every 21 days, I hear him say, "Yeah, this is dad.....just got this new phone and it seems to work pretty well....." I skip the rest for fear of tears welling up again. I keep it there knowing that someday, it may play out it's last remembrance, but trying to hold on to that last little piece of him. I didn't know it, this night a year ago, but I would never again see his prideful smile as I walked through his door with a bag full of groceries and my laptop. I wouldn't make another trip to take him ice cream and cigarettes. I wouldn't get another walk with him along the Highline Canal or another talk about life sitting in the cool spring air on the balcony of his modest one-bedroom apartment. I wouldn't get to kiss his forehead or wish him a good night again. I wouldn't see him make tea in the early morning hours while camping at the creek or hear him spout off opinions of how the movie "300" didn't get the facts right.

What would I have done differently? I often ask myself if I would have stayed the night with him after the Memorial Day party when he so obviously made up his mind. I ask myself if I would have stayed at his place longer, that Sunday afternoon, instead of leaving to come home for dinner with C. I wish I would have but I know it was not what he wanted. He had to do this his way, in his time, with his own will. I couldn't take that away from him....not then....and not now.

Accepting my father's choice is not always easy. Often times it feels futile....but I do it because, in the end....I respect my father for fighting the good fight and for allowing me the honor of being the last person he would see or hug or kiss or tell that he loved her. I'm blessed for that...no matter what the outcome.

Here's to you, my daD, Pedro Pistolero....and the love and pride you've shown. You are always in my thoughts and in my heart. I love you, daD!