The deadly question

         My father passed the steely cold butt of the gun in my hand and whispered his request with the pain in his eyes. “Kill me..” My heart stopped, even though I had felt this day would come. He had hinted times before but I never expected him to actually ask. The times before the doctors could relieve his pain but not anymore. It had only been four days since Dr. James had sent Dad home with no hope. The disease was cancer but that wasn’t what was killing him. The thought if never getting well, never getting back on his boat and fish the lake, lay in the sun on the beach, or walk with his family in the park again, was. The disease had completely disabled him from life. He sat in the living room with his nineteen prescriptions on the table and monitors around. The nurses in and out with the same comfort measures everyday. He was done. He wanted out! Out of his suffering and to finally feel some relief. But I, I could not pull the trigger…