"I was talkin to Allah, and I'm alright wit it!"

My father was diagnosed with muscular dystrophy at the age of 30 and meant my mother in rehab at that time. He was learning to walk with arm braces and she was recovering from back surgery. By the time I was born my father was in a wheel chair. If you talked to my father but had never seen him in person you would never imagine him disabled. He would tell you that he jumped on the bus in the morning and played a few games of chess with the old heads downtown in market square, then went over to the mall to get some thin sliced corned beef,and stopping to visit an old friend in the hospital on his way home. My father once told me that he forgets he can't walk and in his dreams he isn't disabled. My father always talked about Islam and Allah when I was growing up but he and my mother had split long before that and I was too busy with boyfriends,cheer leading,and all things kufar to want to listen. When I took my shahadah my father cried with thankfulness to Allah every time he saw me covered for months. Attending our masjid was just too difficult because of the logistics of the stairs. His electric chair too heavy for brothers to lift, his muscles too deteriorated to sit in the masjid after being carried in. He came from the old school Nation of Islam and his understanding had grown so much since I became muslim. He started attending the ICP where he could roll right in on the ramp and faithfully attended Jumah every Friday for the past two years. I watched him ever so slowly lose more and more function over the past five years as his disability finally started to "show."  No longer able to rip and run like he used to. He loved a good steak at a good restaurant and I couldn't figure out why he kept turning me down on my invite to go out to dinner. It was one of our favorite things to do! It took so long for him to admit that he no longer had the arm strength to feed himself.  He still had good days where he did and went, but the days he laid in bed and watched sports became more and more common. Two weeks ago his wife had called to say that he was in the hospital for retaining too much water but would be going back home in a couple of days. Those days came and went and his kidneys shut down,his liver stopped functioning,and brain infection was found. At first he was fighting and doctors were trying to put everything in place for him to do  dialysis at home 3 days a week,but if you knew my dad you knew that life in a hospital half the week,with the rest of the week being too tired to do anything was'nt gonna work for my father. If he cant go and do...he'd rather just be done with this life. Yesterday he finally said "I'm tired of fighting". They found another infection and the drugs they need to give to fight the infection are very hard on the kidney's. The doctors say he's in a no win situation but as my father always says" I was talkin to Allah, and I'm all right wit it!"......I'm alright with it too dad, but man am I gonna miss you.