I Returned For Thanksgiving To Find My Parents Gone—And My Father Waiting

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His hand relaxed in mine.

I sat there for hours, holding his hand as the warmth slowly leeched out of it, as his breathing changed and slowed.

The pauses grew longer. Ten seconds. Twenty. Thirty.

Forty-five.

At exactly 3:00 AM according to the cable box clock, Victor took one final breath.

It was shallow, hitching, almost a sigh.

And then nothing.

I waited,continue reading …