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Tuesday, March 3, 2009

James Monroe Howell

Last month, my Papa, who played guitar every Saturday night in a band, who kept a beautiful garden around his koi pond in his back yard, who went on cruises and dates with younger women (she's in her 60's? you dog!) wasn't feeling well and drove himself to the hospital a few towns away.



He was told that night that he wasn't aloud to leave the hospital until he was placed in hospice care and he had 3 to 6 months to live.



He didn't care.



Living like a vegetable, doped up on morphine, not being able to get out of bed to use the bathroom - he told me several times in his mumbly incoherence that he wished he never gotten in his car that day last month.



Last night he died.

I'll miss you, but I sure am glad knowing that you're not suffering anymore.




Although, I'm pretty disappointed you didn't make good on your deal.



3 comments:

Becs said...

I am so sorry to hear this. I will keep you and your family in my prayers.

Breeny said...

I know we talked about it last night, but again... I'm so sorry that this happened. I'm here for whatever-- even if it's to talk while you watch me down more Girl Scout cookies.

On an unrelated note... I do love your new layout.

bittersweetheart said...

I'm so sorry to hear that. Sounds like he was a great guy. He's totally chasing younger women in heaven with no disability now so I'm gonna go with he's in a better place.