An elderly barely breathing but not dead, alive but not living.
His face wrinkled and stained with tears as no one comes to visit him.
He waits for love and compassion, something he's missed his whole life, a work addict. Wishing he could go back and relive everything but knowing its too late.
They give him more medicine to try to make him well, and he can't even go to the bathroom on his own, this is not living. Being alive and living is so much different then we all think. He prays every night to die peacefully in his sleep so he doesn't have to suffer the pain and humiliation he's put himself through. He knows that very few would come to his funeral or even know he was dead, but he wishes all that he does know good heath. He lies his head down and finally breaths his last breath, and is finally at peace. Early that next morning his only son arrives being to hard headed and stubborn to come earlier and realizes that he's come to late. He cries for all the mistakes he's made but realizes much sooner then his old man, how to live and not be alive. For his fathers suffering cause him a lifetime lesson to really live.
