In my book, The Week from Heaven and Hell, I recount my final interaction with our son on the morning of the day he died.

I was preparing to leave for work early that morning when our dog, Ollie, came skittering down the stairs followed by Gary, muttering about being awakened so early to let the dog out. I was still eating breakfast and Gary squeezed by my chair to the slider door, opened it and gave Ollie a gentle nudge with his bare foot. Here, from the book, is my final “conversation” with my son.

“He turned and looked at me, a bit of the haze of sleep clearing, and smiled. Not a word was spoken as he turned to go back to bed. I smiled at his back as he left the room. It was the last time I saw him alive. I still reel with profound sadness on occasions when I think of that time with wonder. Why didn’t I tell him how much I loved him?”

In a post in response to my blog, there is another “final conversation” between Jim Vittum and Stacey Burns. Here is how that conversation appears in Murder in a Small  Town: The Tragic Death of Stacey Burns.

“… As he (Jim Vittum) was leaving, he recalls asking her if she is going to be all right. He says that her answer made him feel that “we were closer at that moment than ever.”

     ” I am now,” he says Stacey answered, recalling her exact words.

     She had about three hours left.

     Then, there is the inevitable “What if . . .?”    (Chapter 2, page 26)

Most of the time, final conversations sadly don’t seem final at the time.