A Dad’s Love
Our footsteps echoed quietly through the waiting room and on to the elevator. There was no need to ask for directions; we had gone this way many times before. The sights and sounds were all too familiar. The elevator carried us up to the 6th floor and we quickly found Dad’s room. The antiseptic odors spilled out into the hallway and the beeping of the ever-present heart machine greeted us at the door. Family members were sitting and standing in various areas of the room and the usual, “How ya...