While visiting my mother yesterday, I told her of the death of the noted classical pianist Van Cliburn. She added to the memories I have of an old story related to my father.
My parents went to see The Louisville Symphony with Van Cliburn as the guest soloist at the Elliott Hall of Music at Purdue University on November 11th, 1964. (Prior to yesterday I didn't know of the soloist.)
The concert did not begin particularly auspiciously. Because of my father's weakness, my mother suggested that they leave at the intermission. Dad asked to stay, indicating that the remaining music would likely be much better. They both enjoyed the second half of the concert very much.
My father taught his math class the next morning at Purdue University. Because he was feeling very weak and sick, my mother took him to the hospital. After various tests came back negative, it was suggested that because he had further tests scheduled for the next day, that he spend the night in the hospital.
Dad died in his sleep very early the next morning, the only night he spent in the hospital during the last six months of his life, at the age of 46.