This is my Dad. He’s 71 years old, and it’s Father’s Day 2008 at my sister Pam’s house.

Yes, that’s oxygen you see, and the black strap holds his morphine pump.

My Dad is constantly asking his family not to cry for him. If you haven’t guessed he’s dying.

He probably won’t see 72. He certainly won’t see Father’s Day 2009. But the rest of us will. And we’ll observe that day with memories of this one and of all those that have gone before it.

Time is precious isn’t it?