“I'm home,” he said with a grin, his eyes fixed on the panoramic portrait of the view from his family bungalow on Peconic Bay in Laurel. He gestured toward the blue horizon on the photo paper tacked to the hospital room wall opposite his bed.
Those may have been his last words. “I'm home.” Indeed he was. Home. Lying in a bed in the very hospital where he was born 57 years ago, the place to which he had been returned to die. Home. Riverhead, Long Island.