Everyone who could had assembled. From New Orleans, Kansas City and northern Iowa, all to St Louis. Brothers, siblings, offspring, aunts and uncles. Sister playing relay with info, room number, who's coming, the go-to goat. Some had come and had their visit, understandably not wanting any part in any decision past visiting. His two brothers, wife, wife's sister, me, the other 8 of his kids, and some of their family, and lastly but not least, the GOOD baby sitter, the one who becomes a friend, or family, even 35 years down the road. His parents and 3'rd brother were in Texas, his other parents Arizona, understandably couldn't come. Older grandparents as well, but they're there later.

The decision was nearly everyone voting to end. The two nurses in the family saw the multiple CT scans. They more than anyone knew. The stroke had cause severe trauma in his lower cerebellum, a rupture between that and the brain, nearly severing them. He wasn't awake, he never regained consciousness after he lost it in the first five minutes. Every so often, he'd spasm gently, on mostly his right side of the body, small movements of things turning off and on from random connections, flexing before going still again.

Everyone knew, everyone understood. Having this go on for any longer was delaying the inevitable. The nature of the injury was too severe, bar some magical super healing, you don't recover from this one.

My father's brothers wanted him to receive last rights by a priest. I like to min max, so yes please all the buffs you can give. Let's let all the religions have a turn and get him jacked. Afterwards the prep was done to remove all the machinery, breathing tubes, ect.

People came and went as the drugs started to work. I can't remember, I was just holding his hand, others around as well.

At roughly 4:06 in the afternoon, 26 hours after the stroke, he died.

Then everyone pressed "F"

Everyone who could made their way over to my mother's parents place. Siblings, the aunt and her 3 adult kids, the lifelong friend and his family. There was crying, there was laughing, stories told, jokes and the like, and most importantly cookies.