I kind of let this blog go for a while… had all good intentions of still writing but.. you know, life and stuff.
My father died recently. November 27, 2016. Just shy of his 81st birthday. December 13th.
A couple of years ago he had heart surgery and I was worried we were going to lose him then. He made it through. He actually went back into hospital on the anniversary of his heart surgery, but that’s another story for another time.
The reason for posting this is because I’m amazed at the kindness of people when things are not going well.
My father was taken off life support on November 27th. We weren’t sure if it was going to take minutes, hours or days. My mother and sisters sent me and my kids home as we weren’t sure.. but I said “I don’t think he’ll die while I’m here.” The same thing happened when my grandmother died (my father’s mother). I left the house and went for a drive and she died shortly thereafter.
My kids and I left the hospital and drove to Oakville to drop Josh at his apartment. During the drive, I checked my phone and my sister’s message said “Call Me”. I already knew. She was crying. He passed a short time after we had left. Breathing just slowed and stopped. Peaceful. At least as much as it could be.
We got to Josh’s apartment and I went to the variety store for something. A lottery ticket. I know, makes no sense but just …wanted some time alone I guess…. it’s a RABBA store on the bottom floor of his apartment on Marlbourough in Oakville. The store faces Trafalgar Road.
I paid for my purchase and the jovial fellow at the counter asked how my night had been. I said, still numb, “my father died less than an hour ago”.
This lovely man turned around and grabbed me a pack of Kleenex. He didn’t know me. Never had ever met. Gave me the Kleenex and gave his condolences. It was almost like a commercial. A nice young man with a beard and a wedding ring. Wearing a cap. Rabba should give him a raise.
Monday and Tuesday were filled with arrangements. The kind you never want to have to make. Decisions that hurt your heart. The knowing that you’re finalizing things. The reality that you’re not ever going to see your father again. MY father again. Watching my mother’s heart break over and over again.
Wednesday I took my dog to the dog park. I stopped at the Tim Horton’s on Ottawa and Strasburg on the way home to get a coffee. My dog tipped my purse in the back seat and it had dumped and by the time I got up to pay I couldn’t find anything.
The lovely woman at the window recognized my anguish, my exasperation, my disorientation… I think… I’m not sure what.. and just said “It’s okay. Just come back and pay me tomorrow”.
I couldn’t go back the next day as it was the day of visitations. Or the next as it was the funeral of my dear, sweet, wonderful father.
I finally went to that Tim Horton’s today and the same sweet woman was working the drive thru and when I paid for my coffee I said that I owed her for two since she had spotted me for the other . I didn’t want to hold up the line so I told her quickly that my father had died, I was confused and she gave her condolences and said “no problem”. She was just so sweet.
Long story, but I feel like my father deserved a few more years. So this is very hard. But some kindness from strangers made it a little easier.