I often had dinner
with my ninety four year old father
at the nursing home,
who,  towards the end
had little to say.
what he said
was mostly incoherent
and softly spoken.
after one dinner,
where little was said,
we sat together,
he in his wheelchair,
I in a lounger,
in the lobby,
in front of the television,
digesting,
he turned to me,
and said,

"I didn't think this would go on so long."