Early Saturday morning my sister called to tell me that he had fallen and he's broken his hip socket. The actual socket. He's 94 and the doctors don't believe he'd survive surgery so they're just going to try to keep him comfortable. He'll never be able to walk again and they're struggling to get him to eat.
I'm sitting here going through all my childhood memories: when we would go camping at Green Valley Falls; he was the photographer in our family growing up and I even have the Brownie camera he used to use; after he and my mom divorced he became a better friend to her than he ever was a husband and he loved her his whole life.
This was taken on their wedding day.
Today they're transferring him from the hospital to where he's been living and hospice will take over. I hope I can see him at least one more time this side of heaven.