My story begins on March 11, 2014. The day my father died. My mother called in a panic because she found my father on the floor and he wasn't moving. I think she already knew but she wanted me to come check on him. I got dressed, told my wife what was going on and drove to my parents house. I cried to whole way. I had seen my dad the day before. I was Sunday and he'd called me over to the house to discuss something. He had prostate cancer for many years and we'd recently seen his doctor and he'd told him to stop treatment, he was ready for whatever was to come. I wanted to beg him to go on but knew better of it. So Sunday the 10th he asked me to come over to speak with a hospice nurse and sign his DNR paperwork. I did as he asked and spent the day with him. That night I tucked him into bed and told him I loved him as I did most nights. I told my mom I'd see them tomorrow and went home, less than 5 miles away. Back to Monday morning, when I walked in to their room and saw
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