Then he began physical therapy as well as palliative care. Here's the beautiful Christmas tree in the Family Room at the hospital.
In December, he was transferred to a "nursing home" to receive further physical therapy before returning home. A week later, the PT head came and told him they felt that continuing physical therapy was too dangerous for his fragile bones. So he finally got to go home, his goal since leaving home over a month before. He had worked hard on his PT assignments and was able to use a walker to get around and look after himself. However, as he entered the house, he fell right at the threshold. Hospice was going to be looking after him and was already on the way, but at learning of the fall, they sent extra people to be able to pick him up. So he got settled into his hospital bed in the living room right in front of his TV. This is a photo of two of his three grandchildren:
And this is his oldest grandchild, his first:
Hospice and a private CNA looked after him the rest of December. I slept in the recliner in the same room, inching it closer and closer to his bed until finally I was beside it, the way it had been in the hospital. The last week of December, he didn't eat much at all and slept most of the time.Towards the end of that week, the Hospice nurse was looking at me in a different way, kind of a hard seriousness is the only thing I can say to describe it. My daughter came and spent the nights on the living room couch. Her wedding anniversary was New Year's Eve so the CNA came to spend that night while my daughter and son-in-law celebrated their anniversary. Early on the morning of January 1, 2016, he died. I know he was at peace with that, having a strong faith that God would continue to look after him after this life as He had during it. He had written his own obituary when he learned of his cancer and made only a few changes to it during the year and a half he was sick. It read: