I try to keep my writing light-hearted. Thinking about it, I would say that pretty much reflects they type of person I am. I could have a blog that only talks about the good stuff so I asked myself what do I want to share and how much. My answer was anything someone else might be interested in, which brings us to the subject of Death.
The Death of a love one and of course our own Death are inevitable encounters we will face. Last night my adoptive father unexpectedly passed away. I received a call this morning from the police who were at his home. They advised me of his passing and requesting I go there.
I dislike emotional carry on. Yes I cry, but not often and I certainly could not see myself wailing for days on end. This morning however, I could not stem the tears so needed to call MM (My Man) home from work to drive me.
I held Dads hand for a moment. I braced myself expecting him to be cold, but he wasn’t.
The police were waiting for me in the living room. They needed me to arrange an undertaker or if I didn’t have a preferred one, they could make the call for me. Let me see, preferred undertaker is not in my personal address book nor do I carry a business card for one. Am I the only person not carrying around these vital contact details?
Dad’s second wife donated her body to science when she passed away and I was pretty sure this was also Dad’s wish. One day when I was visiting him he said, “If anything happens the documents you need are all in here.” and pointed somewhere. I wasn’t paying much attention and said “Ok” moving onto some other less confronting topic. Today I needed to find his instructions because I didn’t want his body prepared if it was not to be viewed or buried. I wanted to ensure that his wishes were met.
We searched for about an hour before I asked the police to contact an undertaker for me. The undertaker arrived and explained that they would look after Dad’s body until I contact them with further instructions once I have found the documents I was looking for.
When the police, and undertaker left, we started looking again. The documents I needed were in a file I had already gone through but didn’t see probably due to the tears in my eyes. Dad does want his body to be donated to science and he does not want a funeral.
Once I learnt Dad had been playing pool with his buddies yesterday, a neighbour spoke with him in the evening and the same neighbour called in on him this morning and alerted the police, I felt much better. My emotion and tears were guilt and fear that he had been alone and suffering for days.
I’m dreading the next steps of sorting out his estate. He wasn’t as instructive in these matters as I had hoped and now I hold regret that I never sat down and had this conversation with him.
I took this picture of a father and daughter one day because I felt it reflected the special bond between fathers and daughters.
Rest In Peace Dad. 23/10/1936 – 04/04/2016