My father hates the doctor. He hates the hospital and all things that he considers to be invasive to his personal self. So, when he believed he had a heart attack, I was scared--shitless. Especially when he decided he needed to go to the emergency room. That was not my father. He is the strong, silent type. You know the man's man; pain is just an expression of hard work and being alive. But I've been lucky because my family is close. It had always been my mom, dad, my brother and I...always together. Always battling; always conquering anything that came along. So this incident was no different. However, I have learned that even the strong things fall. Sometimes, they fall hard enough never to get up again. But this isn't about my dad or his heart attack. This is about last moments. The moments we don't realize are the last until they're over. Thursday, book club day, a last moment. As my dad and mom stayed in the hospital, my brother and I went across the...