Dad

It's six months since her man died, and she sometimes remembers, sometimes not.
He died at 96 of the cigarettes that he quit fifty years before. The cilia in his lungs were too damaged to waft away the infected mucus and the 30% oxygen level in his blood could not sustain his fragile life. He died in his sleep. It was time anyway. Everyone said he was a gentleman, and never complained, even though he couldn't walk from the pain.