Dad's Anniversary

Six years ago today, my four brothers, two sisters, brother-in-laws, my husband and me sat in my dad's hospital room while he died. We were all on one side of the room, which had one of those pull curtains that separated it into two. My youngest brother was sitting with him on the other side of the curtain. My oldest brother at that moment was telling a very funny story to rest of us, who were unaware of what was happening on the other side of the curtain. We were all laughing very hard, when my youngest brother's voice came through the curtain. "He's gone."
   Recalling the moment when Dad's life left his body, he said later that it happened when he was holding Dad's hand. And as Dad died, my brother was filled with supreme joy and a liberating happiness. As he headily described it, "It was like children playing in a playground. And balloons lifting off from the ground."
   It brings me such profound fulfillment to know that my brother was with him when he crossed over. And the last thing he heard was all of us laughing.