Dad’s Gift

Roy Wenzl: KANSAS CITY, Kan. — It was my Uncle Jim who told us my Dad was going to die.

He stopped my brother and me in the hallway as we arrived outside Dad’s hospital room, and led us to a set of worn cushion chairs in the lobby at the University of Kansas Medical Center hospital. Uncle Jim lit a cigarette, which I thought was a bit much, lung cancer being the subject at hand. He sucked in the smoke and told us that all medical efforts were useless.

“He’ll be gone by Christmas.”