It’s been 2 weeks since my FIL passed away.
He was 89 years old, diabetic, and had Alzheimer’s, the long good-bye.
His funeral was a week ago Monday in the city where Zen-Den grew up, a 4 to 5 hour drive from here. We drove there on Sunday and came back later in the week.
The funeral wasn’t a sad or maudlin affair because the person FIL had become was nothing like the person he’d been in his prime; even then, in his better days he was a ‘hale fellow well met’ with some Archie Bunker thrown into the mix– stubbornly clinging to the past.
However, as is the way with people who suffer with Alzheimer’s, FIL deteriorated slowly, forgetting his resentments along the way. He became physically weak, and seemingly ready to leave this world.
The best part of the funeral was FIL’s 3-year-old step-great-granddaughter who stole the show. She was cheerful, of course. Dressed in a sundress + straw hat. Delightfully curious. So much so that at one point during the memorial service she went up front, quietly, to join the pastor, sitting her little self down on a chair nearby him to watch.
Which was cute– and a visual reminder that life goes on.
And on that positive note I’ll end this post. I’m not even sure why I’m telling you this, but some days, occasionally, I write here in a serious way as if this were my journal– instead of a personal blog filled with flapdoodle and twaddle.
Today is one of those days.