best simply not to die

Dad and I once discussed the whether it was better to die suddenly or have time to say goodbye. I can’t remember exactly where dad came out but I decided that it was best simply not to die.

Dad’s death was of the protracted sort. His heart attack occurred just before his Seventy-Fifth birthday in October and he died two and a half months later. As it turns out, I was glad that I had an opportunity to say goodbye.

Dad loved adventure. He and I backpacked through Europe together twice. On one trip, he Chris and I cycled across Ireland and then packed in England, France, and Italy. Dad was sixty-six years old and suffered from RA but that didn’t stop him from doing what he wanted. He was that kind of man.

Mostly, what he wanted was to spend time with his children who lived in three different states on both coasts. He made the circuit of his out-of-state children several times a year. Dad was making the California circuit when he had his heart attack, which meant that I had had a good two week visit with him while he was still healthy.

It was a really good visit. Dad and I had an opportunity to talk. And he had an opportunity to spend some time with his grandchildren. We got lucky.

His heart attack marked the beginning of a different journey. Over the next two months, Dad’s health was up and down and he was in and out of four hospitals. I was able to visit him twice while he was able to speak. And twice when he was unconscious. I said a lot of good byes over these trips.

Dad has been a constant help on my life journey. He was sometimes my cheerleader, sometimes my moral compass, always my friend, always safety. Now that he is gone, I’ve been trying imagine how to go it alone and find myself coming up sort.

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