October 10, 2010
We got a call at 11:30 that morning from my husband's aunt. We were waiting/not waiting for it to come. "Matt, your dad's probably not going to make it to tomorrow." And so we went; south and east, to a state that so far has been home to the most meaningful events in our lives together.
We made it before midnight. We sat and held his hand in our hands for the last time, not knowing if he felt it, if he even knew it was us. Sometime that night, soon after everyone had gone to bed, he passed away.
For the next week we went through his things. On the last day, after I had left for home, my husband found a little stack of business cards with notes on the backs. There were quotes from Vonnegut books, funny sayings; Matt had seen them all before and he was happy to find them. The very last card in the pile said, "At least the motherfucker tried." And he did. He tried, he tried. It's the only thing any of us can do.