Dust in the wind

My father is sick. Literally.
I’m not completely sure of the details, but I think he has had an allergic reaction to some penicillin that a dentist gave him awhile ago. He has been transferred to two different hospitals in search of a doctor who knows what they are doing. He is probably going to be in the latest hospital for a week.
It has been touch and go, but they are fairly sure he will be okay. It may take him months to recover though. I hear he looks like a monster.
I’m going to go down to Calgary to see him and give my family support. I’ll leave after work tomorrow.
This all started on his birthday.
My father is getting old, and I’m worried. He is a good father, but at the same time, he is rather distant. I suspect this is true of a lot of people; that their father was always busy with work. So I don’t know how well I know him.
One of the things I’m most concerned about is that he may never know his grandchildren. That I consider a personal failing. I would like to have a family of my own, but I have been making terrible progress towards that. And I know my father would make a perfect grandfather. I wish I could give him some grandchildren.