My Dad

Dad died peacefully at home this morning. It feels a bit of a shock, since we were expecting a few months at least, but his old body just couldn't take anymore. I'm actually relieved that it wasn't a long struggle for him, he was so uncomfortable. His wife was with him and one of my sisters was nearby. It was a good death.

Now comes the process of making decisions about a memorial, an obituary, all those details that keep a family busy and distracted for the first several days. My task for now will be to take some bio that my sister has and form an obit draft from it. It's a good task for me, to tell his story and share with others what a good life he led.

I'm so so so grateful we went to visit him Saturday!

Liza and I went scooting this afternoon; I was in search of something appropriate to mark this day. I kept being drawn to tiny worlds, tiny plants on rock walls, and this tiny mushroom (toadstool?) sitting by itself among the mosses and miniature grasses. I don't know yet what the significance is, but it feels right. Perhaps I'll never know.

I ran into a friend as we were near home. He asked, "What's new?" and I responded, "Well, my dad died this morning." I'm sure it must have caught him up short, a rather unexpected response, but I didn't feel like I could say anything else.

Coincidentally, my blip a year ago yesterday was a story about my mom's passing (in 1997). Funny, that.

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