My father died last night. It was expected, though one is never really ready for such things. He wasn't particularly ill, he had just gotten progressively weaker and less cogent. About two weeks ago, he pretty much gave up trying. We (meaning, my sister, since she lives just outside Ithaca and I'm 900 miles away) put him in hospice, in accordance with his wishes. They took good care of him and mom got some much needed rest. Two days ago, he stopped eating. As far as we can tell, he went fairly peacefully.When most people talk about someone having lived "a good life" they mean a life to which one might aspire. More successes than failures, a loving family, a few notable things done that left the world a better place. One could look at my dad's life and say that, but that's not what I mean when I say he lived a good life.
Dad was good. He did the Right Thing. Always. It was amazing to watch. I'd like to say it rubbed off on me and maybe it did to some extent, but his virtue was simply on another level. He wasn't sanctimonious about it, he just did it. Love your neighbor as yourself wasn't a command to him. He simply didn't know any other way to deal with people.
When I was in High School, I remember him lamenting to me that there was one guy at work that he just couldn't get along with. He said he'd never found someone with whom he couldn't get along. Even as a brash teenager, I knew better than to add my own commentary to such a confession, but inside I was thinking: "You're 50, and just now you're meeting someone you can't get along with?"
I realize it sounds like I'm describing George Bailey from It's a Wonderful Life but, just ask anybody who knew him. George would have admired him. (If for no other reason than he knew better than to hire incompetent family members and put them in charge of really important stuff; that's kind of important whether you're running a bank in Bedford Falls or a Molecular Biology lab at Cornell).
Anyway, he has passed. It's tempting to haul out the cliche that the world is a lesser place for it, but I don't think that's true. His was a good life. Lives have beginnings and endings. His has ended. And, the portion of it that I got to see was the most good life I have ever known.
Eric, my sincere condolences. You and your family will be in my prayers during this difficult time. I remember your Dad (and mom) fondly, accepting me completely as one of Anne's friends. Love and Hugs!
ReplyDeleteI'm sorry to hear it, Eric. I was just telling my kids that your father was a big part of my teen years. And yes, he was a good man. My condolences for your loss. Be kind to yourself as you move through the grieving process.
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