He was 91. I am so glad I flew up when I did. If I had waited until Monday, it would have been too late. He was so thin, I could almost touch my first finger and thumb around his bicep. My little sister said that he was jaundiced, but by the time I got there, it was gone. Now I know that is called a death pallor and it passes, and oftentimes people get a fever, and then pick at the sheets, and sometimes say they see people who have already died, or angels or little children. He picked at the sheets, and pointed at things, and had a lot of neurological twitches, and developed a death rattle, which is saliva that cannot be swallowed or coughed up. Atripine drops in the mouth, a scopolamine patch behind his ear, and morphine from a dropper under his tongue helped calm him down. We played soft music, and kept the lights low, and held hands. He had a vise grip, especially when someone changed his diapers. He hated, hated, hated that and his arms would fly up like he was a newborn baby. And then he'd find the person changing him and he'd grab them. It always took two people, incl a man. He didn't move his head to the side at all, so he could see you only if you were directly in front of him. Not sure if he was just too weak to turn his head or what. He could hear everything but knew the difference between when we spoke directly to him, leaning down and talking to him, and rubbing his shoulder, and when people were talking on the other side of the room. He'd zone out and go to sleep then. (The hearing is the last to go.) I think he was gone the day before he died. His vice grip disappeared and the rattle disappeared. His breathing was softer and more robotic. His death was almost textbook. I read FINAL GIFTS on the flight in, and I highly recommend it. More information than you wanted ... sorry. It's just so weird. Surreal. I fly back to MN next week for the wake and funeral. There are 5 kids all over the country and lots of grandchildren and cousins so it's taking a bit of planning. It will be beautiful. I am so glad that he is no longer suffering. He would have killed himself if he knew how wild and violent he was last month. My little sister is busy planning the funeral and while I was in her house, she'd run around and then stop and say, "Oh, wait, I don't have to go anywhere any more." She's having a bit of a time adjusting. Eventually, she will love her free time, and mostly, the relief from the stress of worrying about Dad all the time. I hope she gains some weight and makes time to exercise. Thank you all for your support. It really helped.