Jesus H. Christ!  You're not a writer! You're a killer!  Thanks for the kind words,  everyone.  In contrast, my father passed away on April 24, while I was on the road. I saw him the week before, and I talked to him on the phone from Alaska a few hours before. I got to tell him I loved him, and hear him say he loved me. I began a race against death to get home once I was told his body was shutting down. He passed away while I was on the third of my four flights.  He was 80. He was a great dad, and lived a good life.  I was on a redeye from SEA to DFW on Alaska Airlines when I got the message. Other than that obvious trauma, was the dickhead in the middle seat elbowing me the entire flight, and having to spend a night in the Prudhoe Bay Motel. Look that jewel up on Google. View from my window below. Had to spend the night there because I couldn't get on flight out that afternoon on emergency status.