When I told her, Pat's first words were a heartfelt "Thank God!" After 28 days in the intensive/enhanced care, with tubes down his throat, with a "central line" moved every few days from one vein to another, with very little "real" food (and that was applesauce), with bedsores developing, with the prospect of three months of rehab in front of him, yes, he's at peace now.

Pat's in DC, I'm in Pocatello and I'll be flying out in a couple days.

Things are better this way, really. The only problem is that the burial and the funeral service will be temporally distant from each other because Arlington NC has such a backlog due to the hundred of other WW2 vets dying. And by the way, he's eligible (and Pat will ensure that he has) the riderless horse, the caisson, an 18-gun salute, and so on.

I've got a lot to do before I fly out. I'll know more this morning, I hope.