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I'm Sorry for Your Loss

Sadness. Deep sadness. For me it has a very distinct, and unfortunately, familiar feeling. This past May, I was in Florida for several days, until Memorial Day weekend. I had no idea that on Monday, May 30th, I would speak to my father, on the phone, for the last time.
I came home from Westchester Airport, tired and ready for bed. I was home after several days of being away. The apartment was quiet. No pups.  My parent's had been kind enough to pick up Hermes and Jessie the next day, since I would be at work, unable to retrieve them from the vet.
I laid in my bed, almost 11 pm, on my MacBook, watching some random tv show, then the phone rang. First it was my brother. I ignored it, since I was half asleep and assumed he simply wanted to see if I was home. Then, minutes later, my uncle called. He said my father had fallen. In his voice, I heard more than what he had stated. Something else had happened. I raced to St. Francis hospital in Poughkeepsie, my brother was still on his way,…

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