When my mother in law died in October, my husband said, ‘This is the end of an era.’ His father looked at him in shock and said, ‘I’m still here! It’s only the end of half an era.’
My husband’s parents divorced when he was 13, and they have been living separate lives ever since. They had different carers, lived in different cities, had different values, and didn’t even move in the same circles.They would come together for Christmas and other family occasions, but otherwise their lives were miles apart.
This is why it’s so weird and peculiar that they died only 60 days apart, both very sudden, both in the hospital after a short but fatal illness, and both taking their last breaths surrounded by their loved ones.
Yesterday afternoon we received a phone-call from the nurse, letting us know that he had taken a turn for the worse and we’d better get down there. Two minutes later my husband’s sister called, telling us he had just passed away. I was running around getting our overnight bag ready, and my husband was holding the car keys, on his way out the door.
After he hung up the phone he looked at me and said, ‘Now it’s the end of an era.’
We had been to the hospital to see him only a couple of days before, and were planning to return early this week. When we were sitting by his bed my husband asked, ‘So dad, any family secrets I should know about? Am I the son of the milkman or anything like that?’ Even though he had a hard time breathing, he managed a little laugh and said in a husky Godfather voice, ‘No, no drama. No secrets. You know everything.’ We told him we loved him, and that we would see him in a few days.
In my most pessimistic moment I thought he might have a few weeks left. He himself figured he had about 6 weeks left to live. He was so prepared though. He called in the solicitor and updated his will. He let us know about his funeral plans. What pub we wanted us to go to after the service. He even had printed up a list of emergency phone-numbers so we could call all his friends and keep them posted.
As soon as we heard the sad news I lit candles and said a little prayer.
I had planned to stay in a graceful state of mind for the rest of the evening, but then a ravenous hunger took over. I was propelled into the kitchen and within minutes I was boiling potatoes, grilling vegetables and making veggie burgers. I was positively starving. I had expected to feel frail and limp, but instead I became energetic like a Duracell rabbit on speed. After the meal I calmed down again. My husband kept making phone calls, having to be the bearer of bad news. I lit some more candles, trying to take in how quickly things change.
A friend of mine once said, ‘Death isn’t very complicated. You breathe in, and then you don’t breathe out again. That’s it.’
As my father in law drew his last breath, his daughter was sitting next to his bed, holding his hand as he passed away. I’m so glad she was there. No one should die alone, but for the living it’s also a great honor and privilege to be there in those final moments.
We’re lucky. With both parents nothing was left unsaid or undone. There are no buts and ifs, no regret or guilt. There is sadness and a tremendous feeling of loss, but the grieving is pure, clean and simple.
Today is a wonderful sunny day. Gorgeous Cotswolds weather. We should go on a long walk or something. Soon enough things will get busy again. And of course Christmas is just around the corner. Then New Year’s Eve. Just like that it will be 2015 and a brand new year.
That is the cool thing about life, it continues.
So you want to be a writer? 