Thanks so much guys, I really appreciate it. My dad was living with alzheimer's related dementia for quite a few years, it's just been the last year he really went downhill fast. We had him on hospice since June so we knew it was coming, but it's never easy as aforesaid.
My dad is a big part of the reason I got into brewing in the first place. No, he never brewed himself, but he loved beer. One of my earliest memories is of him asking me to get him one from the fridge, and letting me have a sip; I was maybe 4 or 5. Not only did I want to be just like my dad (I was the tomboy of the family), I loved the taste. Soon every once in a while he'd pour about half an inch into a small glass for me. By the time I was in my early teens I could have a full one once in a while. I think this is probably the reason I was never one of those kids who snuck their parent's booze and ran with the 'wild' kids; I could have a beer any old time I wanted to. In the past few years I brought him one of my own every once in a while when I'd visit (hiding it from his caregivers who would have had a fit), and he was impressed that his daughter could make something so tasty.
The bad side of that, my father also was an alcoholic, in a bad way. We're pretty sure that his condition was exacerbated by years of drinking not only beer but hard stuff; he would go through a gallon of whisky by himself in less than a week. He wasn't a big guy. There were some issues, like falling down the stairs and showing up to family gatherings drunk off his ass. He never got a dui, though, for which I'm eternally grateful. There's more to the story but I won't get into it. Suffice to say, I've been concentrating on the good memories and shutting out the not so good ones.