Gone.
Well, my father is gone. After about four days in hospice, kept comfortable but without food, water, or medicines to do other than relieve pain, my father died at about 5pm Friday, March 30th, 2018. He was born August 30th, 1941. He lived 27,971 days. He was 76 years old when he died. He was a dad, a Veteran, a chess player. He cared a great deal about the people he loved, and he was kind to everyone, even when he was furious.
He was my father and I loved him.
The weekend was surprisingly good, considering. I was strangely asked to speak at my AA meeting Saturday morning, to fill in for someone who couldn’t make it. It ended up being a messy, difficult talk, in which I misstated my own sobriety date by three months. But it was good to get to do.
BB and I did a long run on Saturday of 8.3 miles, and a trail run on Sunday of 5.6 miles, and then we went to be with my family on Easter. I saw my sisters, which was good, and my brother. I missed everyone, and I’m glad I saw them.
And so soon I’ll be heading down to Tucson to inter my father, and then we’ll have a memorial in Seattle. And that will be his life. And I’ll be grateful for all of that. And sad.
Infactorium 
I’m so sorry about your dad. It is difficult to lose a parent, no matter how “expected” the death was.
Along the way, we are given numerous difficulties, emotional and otherwise. Losing a parent especially one as well loved as was your dad, creates all kinds of havoc, some noticed consciously, some not realized until long afterwards given the degree of emotional pain that can drive the emotion deep into the unconscious self. That is why it is so important to stay close to the fellowship and to the spiritual tenants of the program when we are having these types of experiences. Sounds as though you are on top of it. Thanks for sharing.