Not wanting to write of it, I must though,

to let it out, to let it go.

"Let me go, let me go!" he said.

"No Dad, no, you are going to be OK."

"Let me go, let me go", he said, his eyes rolling up in his head.

"No Dad, no, help is on the way."

My tears stained the sheets in big round circles.

"Let me go son, let me go" he said.

I pulled him from the bed and put him on the floor and began pounding on his chest.

He was turning while, like the sheets on the bed.

They came running up the stairs and pushed me away from my father and they put the oxygen on his face and put him on the stretcher.

"Your OK now Dad", I said as they put him in the ambulance.

Later we saw him, Mom and me, and they had all kinds of things hooked up to him.

Before leaving he grabbed my arm with his still strong hand and said

"You should of let me go son."

He then closed his eyes and let go of my arm.

Three weeks later, after suffering a stroke he looked at me by the bed.

He couldn't talk but if he could I know what he would say and that would be,

"You should of let me go son, you should of let me go!"

We got the call the next morning that he was gone.

My father, the man I never knew was gone.

Now, a long time later, I am letting you go Dad,

To where I don't know.