The following blog is written by WEWS Managing Editor Jim Scott sharing his experiences about his father who is dying of cancer.

Jim will provide daily updates.

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I got out of work as early as I could Thursday, but something was different about today. That tired and terribly fatigued feeling that started my day was gone.

I'd recovered from the lack of sleep with a sudden burst of energy but there was no reason for it. This I thought was a good thing. At least it should have been.

My wife called to find out how far I'd gotten. "Not far," I said. "Just a few minutes on the road, the Ohio Turnpike is minutes away, but there's a strange feeling in me. I can't explain it but I'll be home just as soon as I can. Don't forget, I'm going to spend time with Dad tonight. " She told me to drive safely, and that she'd wait up for me.

Not long into the trip my mood changed. I wasn't angry or upset, just felt a bit off, like something wasn't right.

As I tried to figure it out, I felt a soft breeze and then a kiss on my right cheek. I laughed thinking my granddaughter was blowing me kisses again. Her name is Kaelyn and she always does that for me.

Almost in an instant the cellphone rang again. It had to be one of my children calling, I thought. They always checked in with me while I drove home. Actually their calls were sweet reminders of how special they are to me, but this time it wasn't the kids.

It was exactly 8:02 p.m. "Mr. Scott," the voice said. "I'm sorry to inform you that you father has passed away." The caller said, "He didn't suffer, there was no obvious pain, he just slept away. We're going to call you mother now."

I told them no, that I wanted to be the one to tell her. I also said, "Please do not move his body until I can get there to see him."

Suddenly the strength that I had shown for all these months abandoned me. I cried quietly and tried to drive {there was nowhere to pull over} as best I could.

I called out his name and asked him to help me drive, help me get home to my family safely. "Pop, help me drive," I cried, "Help me get home."

He did. In fact, I could feel him in the passenger seat, like the time he taught me how to drive saying, "Stay on the road, watch the white line, doggone it son, watch your speed."

I knew I was OK. God and Pop helped keep me on the road. We stopped and started several times, but I was safe.

I kept talking to him while I drove because I knew he was there with me.

I told Pop that on Christmas eve of 1959, I heard him and Momma playing with that Radar Rocket Cannon they'd bought me, that I wasn't asleep. Then on Christmas Day I never let on that it was one gift that was not a surprise..

I thanked him for sending me off to college. That money was so hard to come by even with only one child, but he did it anyway.

I thanked him for worrying about me as I went off to the Marine Corps.

I praised him for never judging me, for always standing by me no matter how wrong my decisions were, for always being the good Dad.

And I told him that because of him I was able to be the kind of man that he was.

I could almost hear him laugh as only my Pop could, saying, "Son you give me too much credit."

My family was with Mom when I called to tell her. We set it up that way. She was understandably upset but she also seemed relieved, that Pop didn't have to fight this ugly Cancer anymore. She was surrounded by my family and I'd be there soon.

I also left a message for faith healer Dr. Nemeh and his wife Cathy, thanking them for their prayers and for loving my father, a man they'd never met. I told them the miracle did happen.

He never had pain. He was able to talk with us, and recognize us until the very end; until God called him home. I would later learn that over these past few weeks, Dad had words of wisdom for everyone, the grandkids and the great grandkids. He gave them all something to carry with them.

This would be my last walk into the care center. There was Pop covered in the green and white afghan that Momma knitted. It covered his sick beds through all the months of his illness.

He was still a beautiful man, even though Cancer had ravaged his body.

I moved his glasses and watch and sat down on the bed beside him. I kissed him and I held him ever so close. His body already rigid still had a degree of warmth.

I told him how much I loved him and thanked him for all of the wonderful years he gave me. I asked God to allow me to be like my Pop.

"I was a good Son, but he was a great Father."

I'm so glad I was able to share him with you. I wish you all good health.

God Bless You and Your Families.

Warmly,
Jim