Well it’s all over now, Dad died early this morning. I just want to say thanks to everyone for your thoughts and wishes, they are greatly appreciated.
When Emjay rang and told me, well it was kind of weird actually because we’d just spoken a few minutes earlier about our plans for the day involving visiting dad. But when she rang back and told me that he was gone what I really felt was relief. I’ve been walking around for the past week with a lump the size of a basketball stuck in my chest. I knew he wouldn’t go easily because it just wasn’t in his nature, he is a fighter and a scrapper and a survivor. But we all knew it was time and he wouldn’t have wanted to live any longer as he was.
I’m glad we had the week to spend with him, mind you I don’t think I’d like to do it again. I’ve already asked my mother just to have a nice quick heart attack when she decides to go.
I have very mixed emotions this afternoon. I feel sad and I’ll miss him but I also feel relieved that he’s at peace now. I feel as if I’ve been walking around for the past year with my jaw clenched, I always seemed to be waiting for a phone call regarding his health. I spent some time with him this morning after he died. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to but I thought that if I didn’t then I might regret it later and I’m glad I did because when I saw him I had this, oh I don’t know what it was. It was a moment. When I walked in and saw him I didn’t feel sad and I sat on the bed and touched his face and I kissed him and then I said to him – you’re not in there. I am never going to worry again about being fat or ugly or wrinkly or whatever else people worry about because your body means nothing. Well sure it’s important for some things, like walking you around and lifting a wine glass to your mouth and stuff like that. But it’s got nothing to do with who you are. When I sat on that bed and looked into Dad’s eyes it was like everything that made him who he was, what he was, was gone. It’s hard to explain. A lot of dad’s presence was physical, visual. He was a disabled man and I can’t talk for everyone but a lot of people judged him by the way his body looked and acted, they didn’t see his inner presence, his great spirit. But when I saw his body lying in that bed it was just this empty vessel. When I looked at it, it was like this useless thing that had just held him back for over twenty years. I just thought that his spirit would be soaring at the moment. I think it’s just out there doing black flips and triple somersaults and handstands and all the things it’s wanted to do for all these years but couldn’t because it was trapped in that twisted vessel of a body.
So anyway, I looked at him and said – you’re not in there. So I sat on his bed and sent some text messages to friends and I looked through his wardrobe and I checked out his CD collection (and I stole one) then I looked at his photo collection and then I sat on his bed and looked out the window for a while. Because I knew that the hardest thing was going to be walking out of that room and never seeing that useless twisted body again.
But it was time for him to go and we would just be selfish in wanting him to stay.
So rest in peace Maxwell, I love you.
You sure taught me a thing or two about true grit.