Life was about to propel me down an unknown path. The summons unsolicited. The foreboding winds of change included illness, death and unrequited grief. New emotions churned to unexplored depths. My heart left with an uncomely scar, leading perpetually to uncharted territory.The path eventually led to the death of my elderly father. Although Dad was 90 when he died his advanced age did not prepare me for the unfairness of his death.My age at his passing was 41. My mother died years ago when I was 26. Both times I felt cheated of irreplaceable relationships. An adult orphan.The year preceding my Dad’s death was a chaotic year of caretaking, worry, waiting, wondering, praying and hoping. All took a toll. Every aspect of life dictated by the unwelcome visitor of death waiting to claim the next victim. The foreboding enemy was ever present, spying through a veil of denial. The shadow of death threatened any semblance of emotional stability at the most inopportune time. Illness and death are thieves that bear a harsh reality. The death of my father was no exception. I was part of the sandwich generation long before the term had been coined, caring for both my children and my dad. My schedule already busy. Content raising two boys, how could I add illness, death and grief. At the same time, I wanted to enjoy and care for my father in the final year of his life. The inconsiderate foes of illness and death invaded our lives. The impending invasion drove me to my knees in prayer, exacting answers to wistful requests. God was ever-present guide as we embarked on the dark dreadful journey.