In a cold dark place, his eyes shiver as if in some kind of nightmarish dream state. You see an oxygen tub in his nose to help him breath, an iv that gives him the liquid he needed for hydration and medication. We all stand be for him at his hospital bedside in disbelief at this kind of out come. The final days are marked in which it is hard to say our final goodbyes because we love this man. In the final days, all he does is sleep, sleep so he cannot fill the hoarded pain of the cancer that is deep in his spin, and know his brain. The day that we all new will come hit us like a strike of lightning. The feeling lingered into the cold wet wintery day of his funeral. As we sat before the open casket, I tried disparately to lift my of this sadden day.