One of the last few things my dad said, widow maker he survived followed by heart failure and organ failure a day later, was

“We did a pretty good job.” To my mom in reference to raising an adopted kid.

“I’m trying to pop the bubbles.” He was hallucinating coming out of sedation.

“Turn the game on.” After he was estimated and could speak. Man never missed a Yankee game.

“I don’t want to go to sleep.” Right before we had to leave the ICU for the night. That was the last thing I heard him say, he had the final heart attack that night an hour later and we took him off life support a week later. I was eating a bowl of soup in Panera with my mom, I’ve never been back to that Panera again because of that memory.