Some days are okay. Most days are okay.
Then, I feel guilty for being okay.
Then, I’m not okay.
Grief is weird. I can be perfectly content, then a thought will pop in my head. A memory. Something about that last day he was alive.
I still have a lot of things I wish I would have said over the years. Funny how the last three months that we had, they didn’t seem like important things to say. Now, I wish I would have said thing. Asked questions that are pulling at my heart.
This time last week, I was sitting at my Dad’s bedside knowing that he was dying. I promised him that he wouldn’t be alone when he died.
I reminded him of the weekends when I was little. He had gotten me a Barbie bat. It was pink foam with a purple handle embossed with hearts and stars. He would pitch to me, I’d hit and run the bases. Then, I’d have to go get the ball so he could pitch again.
Larry Allen Swihart, 83, passed away on Monday, August 12, 2019 at Majestic Care, New Haven. Born in Fort Wayne he was the son of the late James and Irene (Westrick) Swihart. He served his country in the US Navy aboard the USS Yarnall and was employed with the Tokheim Corporation for over 20 years. He enjoyed fishing, hunting, and could often be found at Hall’s Restaurant in New Haven for his breakfast and black coffee.