I'm drained.

I visited Dad in the hospital today. He has cellulitis in his leg (his good leg) but it's responding well to IV antibiotics and he will likely be released tomorrow. It's very hard to see him in the hospital. The big, strong hero who used to take care of me is now an elderly, fragile man (at only 71) who becomes scared and almost childlike because of his fear of hospitals. We did have a nice visit though. He told about his time in the Air Force, and some stories of his childhood. Dad was usually off working when I was a kid and when he was home he was very quiet, so I never felt like I really knew him at all. Ever since his stroke several years ago though, he's become more talkative. I love hearing all of his stories, but it does make me feel a little sad and scared, since my father-in-law started telling me all his stories over the last few years of his life. It must be a natural thing, to want to pass on your story and legacy before you die. I need to write them down to preserve them for my children and grandchildren.