This was sent to me by the writer very moving narration of the day he lost his Dad.............
It was my second Sunday back in Nigeria after four years and I was looking forward to returning to the House on the Rock church at the Muson Centre in Marina. It had been years since I was there last. I wondered if I would meet anyone I knew or recognised from long ago. I left early enough for the second service so I would have at least half an hour to see Dad at the hospital and Mum. Hopefully he would be well enough to speak. He had consistently been getting better since the feeding tube was inserted through his right nostril. That was uncomfortable enough to watch let alone endure. He tried to put up some resistance, even in his severely weakened state. On another day in another time, I might have been moved to ask that the procedure be stopped or at least postponed. But I could vividly remember the state I found him in.
I had been driven by Slyvester from the airport straight to the hospital.