It's 11 pm, on a Saturday.  I got a call from the neighbor that you are in the hospital.  He found you by the front door, fallen into the planter and couldn't get up.  You were there for 3 days.  Newspapers piling up on the driveway alerted him that something was wrong.  He looked in the front door window and saw you.  Took 20 minutes for him and the paramedics to break into the house to get to you.  I called the hospital and they wouldn't tell me a thing thanks to these stupid privacy laws, other than you were ok and that mom was with you, and that she could spend the night.  At 3 a.m., I get a phone call from the hospital to come pick up mom. I'm in NY, you're in Los Angeles.  I try to tell them, but the bitchy head nurse will hear none of it. Mom, with alzsheimers cannot be left alone.  I'm pleading, begging, swearing.  Are you going to kick her out to the curb?  "Legally we can't do that.."  No kidding. At 3 a.m. I'm frantically trying to find a plane ticket.

7 a.m. I'm on a flight from JFK to Long Beach.  The worse plane ride of my life. I still don't know what is wrong with you. No one will tell me. And now I'm frantic about mom. I know she would never leave your side.  I can't get there fast enough. It takes everything I have to just breathe.  Several times I think I will pass out on the plane.  Just breathe.  Breathe.

You've been limping daddy for the longest time. You always take care of yourself, but for some reason, you just will not go to a doctor for your foot.  Thanksgiving is when I saw you last, and you collapsed in front of me at the airport when you picked me up.  I thought you had a stroke.  I picked you up and half carried, half dragged you to the car.  I talked to you to see if you were slurring words. You got better. You didn't seem so dazed. You seemed fine. It was thanksgiving day and you wanted to get home to celebrate. That's all you wanted. To have the family together.  I should have driven you right to ER, but I knew you would have hated me for spoiling this holiday. I haven't seen you since January.  The family was finally together.  The family that meant everything to you. I couldn't be the one to ruin it. Now, looking back, I wish I had. I could have saved you. But I didn't. A few days later after you fell in front of me, I looked at your foot. A big black and blue circle underneath your foot that you couldn't see.  I told you to see a doctor. You never did. You could have saved yourself, but you never did. Why?  I could have saved you Daddy. But I didn't. Why? I can't even begin to go there. I can't even begin to think of what could have been. Because if I do, it will break my heart so much, I will die.  I don't even want to think that this is all my fault. Is it? Could I have stopped this horrible nightmare?  Could my actions have given you at least a few more weeks, months to live? To be with us? Is all this my fault?

They say things happen for a reason.  I still don't know why.  Sometimes I don't think I ever want to know. I don't think I could ever survive it if I ever figured it out.

The what ifs are what kill me Daddy. 

The what ifs are what's breaking my heart.

The what ifs is what is killing my soul.

The what ifs is what lost you to me.

Can you ever forgive me Daddy?

Because I know I will never be able to forgive myself.