Worried

Sunday my Dad and Step-Mom came over to get some patio bricks.

My Dad had to stop several times because he was out of breath and having chest pains.
That is not a good sign.
Dad has always been fit.
I remember him picking us up from school when he got off work and taking us home.
He'd change clothes, have a snack, and work out for a few hours until my mother came home.
My Dad used to teach martial arts.
Smokey Smurf and I can count the number of times he's missed work on one hand.
The times he did miss work were because he scheduled a day off or he was so sick he couldn't get out of bed. Dad just didn't miss work.

Well, my step-Mom, bless her soul, takes good care of my Dad and has made him take off more.
He's got sick leave, so he might as well use it.
He had a bout with "prostate cancer" last year, I think.
(I may have been the year before that, not sure.)
And then when all of that crap was in the news about the "peg-tube lady" he and my step-Mom went and got a living will.
My Dad doesn't want any life saving measures taken.

Lately, Dad's been talking about how much he loves me and how he's so proud of me and what I'm doing not only for my family, but for myself. That's not like my Dad.

And Sunday he made sure that I gave him a hug.
He said, "Because...when my Mother died I always wished that I could have hugged her just one more time..."

Smokey and I were talking and she brings up a very good point.
I think my Dad is preparing to die or is afraid he will.
I'm too much of a pussy to ask him that for fear I will start blubbering like a little girl...his little girl. My eyes tear up every time I think about it, including now as I'm typing.
Smokey has asked him to get more tests done to see what the problem is, but Dad is refusing.
I can't loose my Dad, not now.
It's taken me most of my life to build a good relationship with him and now...

My kids need their "Pa-pa."