My father died within 3 months of his diagnosis. I was working in the next province (this one) and took Bearskin Airlines every week or 2 to see him. I left for work 2 days before he died, and didn’t see him alive again. Everybody else did; he died at a hospice while the Super Bowl played in the background. It was a party of sorts; many friends and relatives came by to reminisce and tell stories, while the game and life carried on. I’m sorry to have missed his last day, and I don’t watch football. He was loved and he is missed, yet still  with me when I need advice. Amazing.