The last time I saw Charlie, he was being prepped for surgery. He had fallen in the kitchen, laid there alone for three hours, and had wet his pants. When my sister found him between the kitchen island and the stove, she called me right away. "Come Now! Charlie has fallen!" I left church in the middle of the sermon.

We rushed him to the hospital. Within a day, he was transported to another hospital. We arrived to see him lying on the bed looking sad. The day before, the doctors had identified the culprit-a broken neck which caused him to lose the use of his hands and legs. His eyes were red because he had been crying. He craved his favorite beverage - water, but nobody would give him any. Unfortunately, we couldn't give him any either, because he was about to go into surgery. Fluids would cause him to choke while under anesthesia.

Charlie looked at my sister and begged, "Please give me some water, Brenda. I haven't had any water in days."

"I can't give you any because you're about to go into surgery," my sister warmly told him.

"I'm so thirsty, Brenda. Please give me some water."

"Where's your sister. She'll give me some. Sister, please give me some water."

I couldn't stand to deny him, so I took the little stick with the sponge on it and dipped it into a cup of ice water. I put it in his mouth, and he squeezed it and swallowed hard.

"There, is that better?"

"Yeah, but it's not enough. I need more. I'm so thirsty."

I took a small cube of ice and put it in his mouth for him to suck on.

He swished it around in his mouth until it melted and continued to beg for more.

My sister urged me not to give him anymore because it would work against him during surgery.

Charlie looked up at me and then at my sister and continued to plead for water. I attempted to explain the dangers to him, but his next words hurt us both.

"I believe what your mother said to me is true!" Charlie said with the saddest voice. She told me that you two don't love me and that you love your real father more than me. I love yawl, but yawl don't love me the same."

My mother had passed seven years earlier, but not before she put some of the most hurtful thoughts in his head. This one was, for sure, one of the meaner ones.

"Charlie, we love you more than anything. You are our father, and we appreciate all that you have done for us," Brenda said.

"Please don't you ever believe what mom said to you because it is so not true! We love you so much and we always will," I said.

The last time I saw Charlie, it was after his surgery. He was staring up at the ceiling, looking at something that the rest of us couldn't see. He said not a word. He seemed far away and refused to drink any of the water that we offered him. He died the next morning and I promised him that I'd put a bottle of water in his casket as I kissed him goodbye.