My dad’s in the hospital again. ICU this time. Likely pneumonia. Again. COPD is a nasty way to go. A slow merciless sense of suffocating.

This isn’t the first trip here. I’m not sure how many more there will be.

For whatever reason this time feels different. As if I am painfully aware that the best man I’ve ever known, the one I’ve measured myself against and by, all my life…that man is slowly going away.

Typically I take on my professional persona and just assess his care and his progress. Not this time.

This time I count his breaths. I study the lines on his face. And I ache for more time, more conversations, more answers to my questions.

But our days are numbered. And our loved ones more and more precious.