The Last Goodbye

I wrote this story just after my dad passed away. I continue to miss him. It was a typical autumn morning when Sarah’s phone rang. She glanced at the caller ID and saw it was the hospital. Her heart skipped a beat. The doctors had said her father’s condition was stable the night before, but something in her gut told her the news wouldn’t be good. She answered with a shaky, “Hello?” The voice on the other end was calm, too calm. “Ms. Whitman, I’m sorry to inform you—your father passed away early this morning.” The words hit Sarah like a tidal wave.…