Terri rang at 3:45 PM today. She was with him, holding his hand and talking to him, saying how much we all loved him and that if he wanted to go, everything was fine, he shouldn't worry. He then closed his mouth, which Peg says has been hanging wide open enough to "fit a tennis ball in" for the past two days--and stopped breathing. They checked with a mirror. Peg remained unconvinced for five or ten minutes, saying she felt "movement" but I think I would have heard by now if this were a false alarm. Ellyn the Hospice nurse was called, she was on her way out there as we spoke. She will then call Dery's Funeral Home in Dalton, with whom I was in contact yesterday. The guy seemed nice on the phone but then why wouldn't he be. I liked that his father worked for the same company Odd did, I found out, for 44 years he said. Shop floor, not "management" like Odd, but still. Why this should make him a better funeral director I don't know but somehow it does.
There will be no funeral. Cremation. Will hang onto the ashes until I have Peg's and put them together somewhere. I suppose. She's pushing for under the rhododendreons in the lower garden along with about 5 dead collies, there already, but this doesn't work for me.
I'm glad I rang earlier today. They put me on speaker phone and I again told Daddy how lovely the garden here looked in the sunshine, listing the flowers in bloom, and before hanging up reminded him how well we all were and how much we loved him, and how everyone in Norway loved him, and that maybe after he had a little sleep I would ring him later. And then Terri rang, an hour later, in tears.
And then Peg picked up, was surprised to find me on the phone: "I hadn't even dialled!" she said and was annoyed to find that Terri had rung me so I imagine there will be ructions. Peg seems--shaky but OK. Says she's never watched anyone die before, hopes she doesn't end up like that, in diapers, mouth hanging open, groaning, hospital gown hiked up.
Trying to figure out how I'm feeling. Relieved, I think, on many levels. That he didn't linger in this distressed (and distressing) state for a long time--only ten days ago he was up in his chair in the den, situation normal except for a slight cold. Relieved that I didn't get on a plane, I would never have made it time anyway. And relieved I guess that whatever demons have pursued Daddy for so many years, since the war, really, back to the 1940s--have at last let go of him. He was a true gentleman, unbelievably kind, thoughtful, caring, and ate anything put in front of him. And, having gone through his papers over the last year, I am reminded too of what a funny writer he was. Peg may have got all the credit in the comedy writing department, but Odd had a lovely sense of fun and turn of phrase on paper.
Peg was his whole life. Me, yes, Alex, yes--but without his "Peggy"---well. She was his everything. Thank God she didn't die last April. Thank God he didn't have to suffer that. Did he know about her affairs? I have no idea. Did he have affairs? I have no idea. There's still so much I don't know. Will Peg tell me? NO IDEA.
I loved my Daddy.
No comments:
Post a Comment