So last May I zoomed up to the Bay Area to see my dad, who everyone thought was about to die because he had stopped eating and lost a lot of weight. He had been moved from assisted living to my sister and brother-in-law’s house and hospice called in. My sister thought maybe he’d had a stroke that had made it hard to swallow. She tenderly encouraged him to try anyway. My brother-in-law continued to take Dad outside in a wheelchair to breathe fresh air, look at the trees, hear the birds and feel the wind. I think he appreciated all of this a lot.
One day my dad said, “There isn’t anything wrong with me, is there?” and everyone said, no, there wasn’t. “So I don’t have to die right now, right?” Dad wanted to know. “No. Not if you start eating again,” he was told. So he started eating again, gained back the lost weight, moved back to assisted living, and was in good health when I visited him today and yesterday. I think he looks great for a guy who’ll turn 96 in November.