He was the toughest SOB that I ever knew.
Every time, before, death knocked on his door,
he knocked the Grim Reaper on the floor.
Sadly, this time, the hooded one was the victor.
This was the man who lived through a blazing inferno,
being in the line of fire during the Korean War,
and fell from an iron tower.
Yet, as tough as he was, with me he was always tender.
I never, called him Dad…yet he was the best Dad I ever had.
When the time came for him to go cause the pain was too much I cried.
But, just like he did, I did what I had to and told them to turn off the machines.
I feel no guilt for being the one gifted with the right to end his pain.
Billie A. Zahir aka "The Eye" 
Your writing triggers memories of loss and sadness, yet love and closeness also. It is always wonder full and awe full to read your work. It moves me.
Thanks for letting my know that my offerings have the power to move you. I think every writer, no matter how big or small, want to know they have expressed themselves well enough to accomplish the touching of others in some way. My life is what inspires my writing and I guess, like life, I don’t think you can have the good without the bad. I make a habit of always honoring the good that I recieved…even if that good came out of the pain I experienced. Again, thanks for giving my words attention. 🙂
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