He called me on Christmas evening, knowing I was up later than usual because the previous evening's liturgies had deranged my schedule.  He was happy that Mom was home from the nursing home, even if just for the evening, and that his granddaughter and grandson had visited, and that his other granddaughter had called him from California.  They had spoken for over an hour.  He told me that it was really the best Christmas in some time.

Late the next morning, the emergency room at his local hospital called to tell me that he had been admitted complaining of general discomfort and had suddenly died while in their care.  That was three years ago today.

I'm glad you had that happy final evening, Dad. I'm glad we spoke that one last time.