Memories – Dad

My father died recently from old age. He was 97 and slipped peacefully away over a period of days – an easy death.

In some ways, I’d said ‘good-bye’ to him a while ago. He had lost his hearing and had a prosthesis in one eye because of infection due to sudden onset glaucoma. He loved to read but had no longer been able to do it for some time. I enjoyed having discussions with him on many topics. That was not possible anymore. He was in a wheelchair, but still could roll it around the long-term care home where he lived. I think his memory was somewhat impaired, but it was hard to know to what extent because he no longer spoke much. Some days he seemed to recognize me, other days not. Still he seemed cheerful.

Because of Covid-19 we cancelled the funeral service and held a small graveside service in the town where we’d lived, and he and my mom still did. It was a meaningful event even though a lot of family chose not to come because of restrictions on travel and the dangers of ‘the virus.’ I respect those decisions. Perhaps we’ll be able to hold a memorial service in the future.

He’s left a legacy and many memories for all of us. I could never learn to roll my tongue lengthwise like Dad, but I know that my brothers, and other family members can. Dad taught my son to wiggle his ears. I never learned that either.

Dad loved to joke, and to laugh. Sometimes Mom said that he told the same jokes over, but he still got a chuckle out of them.

He loved to tell stories, used to make up bedtime stories on the spur of the moment. That’s probably where I got my drive to write. He loved to read, too. I remember going to libraries with him in Germany. And he had a prodigious memory for facts, whether things he’d personally experienced or had read about.

Dad was interested in the world around him, the cultures and history of other countries, in art and music. This began my own understanding that variety is indeed the spice of life, that differences are not things to be feared but celebrated, and that we can each contribute in our own ways.

My father had a long, varied and full life. I’ll be doing various things as my personal memorial to him, including posting photos, reading books he liked, and hopefully (when the pandemic ends) going to the horse races.

I will miss him.

From one of Dad’s favourite authors, Goethe:

Wanderer’s Nachtlied

Über allen Gipfeln
Ist Ruh,
In allen Wipfeln
Spürest du
Kaum einen Hauch;
Die Vögelein schweigen im Walde.
Warte nur, balde
Ruhest du auch.