For Alf, Fred, Alfred, Mick or Dad
Add comment November 19th, 2006
Whether you called him Alf, Fred, Alfred, Mick or Dad, you were always greeted with a mischevious smile and a laugh. That was the man I knew.
People who knew him when he was younger and stronger had a variety of stories, some good, some not so good. But that can be said for everyone.
Some of the things I heard shocked me, but I could only form my own opinion on an old man with Parkinson’s Disease, with cancer of the bladder and the prostrate, with numerous heart attacks and strokes on his medical records.
He was always a gentleman when I sat and spoke with him. He had a naughty spark in his eye and made me laugh. When his feet stuck to the ground from his Parkinson’s and made him trip, Mum would say: “Dad’s been dancing again.” And Dad would get a good laugh from his lack of coordination.
June of 2006 was a difficult month for my family in Scotland. It was time to say a Farewell.
For me it was letting go of a 91-year-old father-in-law, the man who helped give life to my beloved husband. Even though Fred had lived a good, long life with a devoted wife I couldn’t help but wish I’d known him a bit better. It’s a funny thing about saying goodbye: you never quite feel like you’re ready, even when you know it’s time.
On the 23rd of June, 2006, my husband, mother-in-law and I went to see Dad. He was semi-alert but at the end of our visit stopped responding to us and went to sleep. An hour later we received the call: he had passed.
In spite of knowing the passing was inevitable, we were all in shock. There were times throughout the month of June when my husband and mother-in-law said: “Go back home. There’s nothing you can do here. You have to get back to your job.” But I stayed. I felt deep in my gut that I needed to remain in Scotland. I wasn’t trying to be a martyr, I just knew in my heart of hearts where I needed to be… and on June 23rd I realized that I was right. I was exactly where I should have been: with my husband and mother-in-law when they got the news.
At the funeral, the family was stoic. That was the way they wanted it. The service was small, just six of us. Again, the way they wanted it. I said Farewell to Alf, Fred, Alfred, Mick, Dad without regret. He was loved. He will be remembered. What more could one ask for?
Rest in Peace.
