My Father is Dying

He was in a rehab hospital since March 13. The first week he actually was able to do some rehab on his hip then he got a horrible cough and then he stopped eating. Mom sent my brother and I a message last Thursday that dad's health was in permanent decline. Both of us rushed out to the hospital. My dad was hallucinating and looked like the Night King. Friday morning amidst tears, we discussed stuff and filled out a MOST form. We informed our extended family what was going on.
My father's brothers made plans to come up to say goodbye.
Last weekend, with visitors, my father channeled his inner thespian and rallied for his little brothers. One of my uncles is a doctor, he did his own assessment Monday, and had a good talk with my mom. Basically there is no quality of life my father can recover to. He has lost so much muscle mass, just sitting up wipes him out. He is 5'7" and only weighs 123 pounds. My mom decided to bring him back to their new apartment for hospice. With all of us gathered around my father's bed, he made a speech saying he appreciated all the love and support, he knows he is in a precarious situation, and it's time to get serious about his health. My doctor uncle told him that we all loved him, he had taken care of us for all his life, we will be okay, and he should do what he can.
My dad was moved to the apartment yesterday. He already looks so much happier. His mind drifts into hallucination la la land and can snap back to the present when we ask him a question. I absolutely loved our hospice intake nurse. She had a good warmth and sense of humor. Plus, she is a Game of Thrones fan. I tried to suss out if she had a boyfriend because I would totally approve of her as a sister in law.
I made it to work for two days this week. I liked feeling like a regular contributing worker. My co-workers and boss have been supportive and kind. Two lost their dads and we had good talks. There was one manager who was a clueless bint but it turns out she has no emotional intelligence. My boss is going to talk to her and has my back. I told him I could handle low EQ because the other possibilities were that she's very dumb or a sociopath. Basically, she gave me two projects to work on with a two day turn around. I told her I could work on them but committing to the deadline could be tricky given my situation and please talk to my boss. She didn't understand that so I wound up bursting into tears then leaving work early.
My dad and I had really good talks when he was lucid in the hospital. We got to say what we needed to say. At one point, he dozed off with me sitting next to his bed. I sat quietly memorizing his face. He woke up and told me that I had a "warm calming presence" - which is something I will cherish in my heart the rest of my life. A parent dying is not all crying all the time. It's this weird negotiation between your heart and mind. A thought pops up and then you have to remind yourself "But he's dying". Like when my dad settled into the apartment yesterday, he asked for a gin and tonic. My brother made him one and I was seething - BUT HE IS DYING. Why does it matter? Let him run the show and have what he wants. He's also dying on his own timeline. It could be tomorrow or in two months. My mom, brother, and I are going to work out a hospice care schedule. My brother and I can work remotely.