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My dad writes less and less in his journal these days, but maybe it's still pretty clear. He wrote this tonight -- it doesn't have the year or month anymore -- Paul is my dad's name.
I guess he pretty much wrote down all that's important, didn't he.

Monday 10: 8:00 p.m. Paul at his desk. Robert home, Sally home.
9:30 p.m. Paul goes to sleep.

Tuesday 11:

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Alwaysmyduty,you just described my mate to a tee-no day was complete with out learning something new.He was so witty and smart.He was such a good story teller.Brain cancer took all of that from me. You were so lucky to have such a great dad.
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My father was a very studious man. After work and excercise each day, it was time to read, study and take notes. He said a day wasn't complete unless you learned something new. He could converse on loads of topics and I was in awe of him. As a little girl, I thought he hung the moon, and I'm proud to say when he left, I felt the same way. As Alz started to progress, the notes no longer made much sense but he kept at it. I still look at them once in awhile after all these years and try to imagine what he was trying to say. The day he stopped writing was such a sad day for me. What I woulnd't give to see him sitting in that chair, book, paper and pen in hand, happy as a lark learning something new every day. What a wonderful dad he was.
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awww , hes running out of things to say ugh , well at least he still writes , my dad hasnt wrote anything in a year now .
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