The next day

It is a beautiful cool day here in southern Nevada. Bob is resting. Kevin is gone somewhere and Alex is in school. I love it when the house is quiet. I have two windows in this room - not sure if I can call it my office now, reorganized so much with the idea of moving Alex in, but not sure how that's going. Bob hung a hummingbird feeder by each window and there are several trees in our front yard - the windows face front and side so I have a wonderful view of nature at its best. The temp is only 66 with the breeze it seems cooler although I know if I were sitting outside in the sun it would be warm.

Ten years ago is the day the medical examiner legally proclaimed Brian dead, even though by our first hand knowledge he died at 11:23 PM April 5. By the time I called the police and our doctor to notify them and everyone arrived and the examiner said the time had passed into the next day.

I had been involved with Bob's grandpa passing away and being there when the medical examiner came - it was not as involved as it is in a big city. Grandpa Sullivan was over 90 years old and they lived in the country. I only remember seeing the man from the funeral home and talking to him. Grandpa died in his sleep during the night and Grandma called us over - we lived right next door to them. He lived a good long life.

I was with my dad when he died in the hospital. He was sick and in a comatose condition. He had specified he didn't want to be on life support, but it was my decision to wait until my brother flew in from Ohio before I did anything. I was so angry with the hospital because we had specified a time for them to take dad off the machine - I had to work that morning and planned to leave for the hospital at noon. I was new at the job and couldn't take too much take off. It was difficult. The nursing staff took dad off the machine earlier than we planned without permission, there was no reason for it, but they did call me. It was a long stressful drive to the hospital in a lot of traffic. I was mad and told them so - very disrespectful I thought. My brother was already there when I arrived. There was enough time for me to pay my respects to my dad and he died peaceful. There was no ecstasy or miraculous sightings just peace and quiet. Dad was only 78. His life was hard. His childhood was difficult with his dad dying when he was only 10. He was a hard working man. He loved my mother so much. Mom died three years earlier.

There's so much that goes on when someone dies at home. Police, fireman, medical examiner. No time to cry. I am of the nature to be organized - dot the "i" ready to answer questions to help. When the men from the funeral home came to take Brian's body, they asked permission to wrap Brian in the white sheet I covered him with. And, so they did.

Experiencing dead first hand whether with grandfather, father or son is nothing to fear. I cherish the final time I can be with my loved one when they leave this earth. To say good bye and close the door one last time. To say Farewell my love.