My father died alone on the floor of a gym at his office on December 30, 2010. In the short days that have followed, I have had one great regretthat he, a man truly beloved by his family and friends, who held so many in his heart, died alone. It seems cruel in the truest since of the word that, in the final chapter of my dad's story, a man who gave himself to the world died without a friend to hold his hand as he made the bitter-sweet transition from this world to the next.
I call this a cruel ending to his final chapter because, if there were ever a man whose life was a story, it was my father. Its pages have been faithfully and honestly written over the course of his life, his story penned by his own hand and those of the characters who filled his pages.
There are stories of my mom, us children, his friends and relatives. To retell the stories of anyone besides myself would not do them justiceonly my dad could give those tales t