My father died of cancer in 1966, the day I started college. He was in a hospital bed, in our home, assisted by my mother, grandmother and hospice. After three years of atrophy and pain, he finally died. With today's technology, I think he would have lived to be a grandfather and my younger brothers would have had a father when they needed him most. Kudos to hospice. My mother was a hospice volunteer for 23 years in appreciation for what they did for us.

-- Michael Black, Kennewick