My father died yesterday morning.
And since then, I’ve needed to write something about it. After all, one of my favorite quotes is from Anne Morrow Lindberg:
I must write it all out, at any cost. Writing is thinking. It is more than living, for it is being conscious of living.
But Dad’s been sick for a long time. Since his Parkinson’s came with dementia, he’s been gone in many ways for years. (Parkinson’s is ugly. Thanks Sergey Brin for what you’re doing to stop it.) When I called on Christmas 2009, it was clear the phone confused him too much, so I stopped calling after that. I last visited in June and while there was some time when he knew who I was, just being there exhausted him out as he strained to figure out who I was and how to entertain me.
But now he’s really gone.
For real.
For good.
Forever.
But that little Christian voice is reminding me “For now.”
Laurie White's Blog 
Eugene J. Smith said
Dear Ms. White,
I was saddened to learn, through an internet search, that your father, John, passed away after a long battle with” Parkinson’s and related diseases.” When we were students at Queens College, John urged me to join the Dead End Boys fraternity. We enjoyed socializing and partying around LI and Manhattan. In 1952, John asked me to be his best man at his wedding. Eventually our career paths diverged and we lost contact.
He was a “classy” guy.
Please accept and convey my condolences to your mother, Mary.
Sincerely,
Gene Smith
I am a retired biochemist in Okemos MI.