About two hours after Dad passed away. During the week that
Dad spent fading away at the hospital, and indeed, during the whole
ordeal since his diagnosis, my brother, mother, and I had a chance to
bond stronger than we ever had in years. We had drifted apart over the
years, busy with our own families. But in the beginning, and for many,
many years, it was only the four of us.

We were by his side nearly every day, right up until he took his last
breath here on this Earth. After Dad passed away, we went to a nearby
diner in Manhattan and had what felt like the closing "final" meal of Dad's
ordeal, or the "first" breakfast of our new life without Dad.

It was a beautiful sunny morning, but all of us felt the cold emptiness
of our new reality. We were relieved that Dad's suffering had ended,
yet overwhelmed and numbed with sadness realizing that Dad was really
gone and that this is the end of an era in our family.