and so it has come to pass. my father-in-law, at 90, gave in to the long good night on tuesday. just the night before, i had received news that a colleague had died after battling nose cancer for some years.
it's been one of the longest week ever. seemed far longer than when mum left.
because FIL had been on the upturn, his passing was a real shock. my system took such a beating, especially when i saw him for the first time after he died in the hospital ward and kissed his cold forehead goodbye. he looked so devoid of life, so frail, so different from the warm congenial old man who had been so much a part of my life for almost two decades, an empty shell without a soul. and i shed tears my first tears.
on monday, he had seemed somewhat better, stronger than the day before. he even played the harmonica for the nurses, they had told us. a few days ago, it seemed he had fought with one of the nurses as she wanted to take away his supper before he had finished. FIL didn't approve of wasting food. then on tuesday morning, the nurse on duty noticed that he had paralysis on the right side. he was sent to ICU immediately and a brain scan later showed a massive brain stem stroke.
i had gone to work in the morning with the thought that it was going to be touch and go. my brother-in-law, a doctor, had already called to say that it didn't look good. and whether we wanted to put him on the respirator if it should come to that. barely had i a chance to switch on my computer, the call came that father-in-law had gone.
it was surreal. i made some calls, including one to the undertaker, and continued with my work a short while to wrap up stuff. hoping also that it would waylay the shock a little. but i could not concentrate. i kept thinking how old people should never go to hospitals as they never leave. i always thought my FIL would die in his sleep. or in his lounge chair where he normally naps in his room. that one day we would find him unable to wake up. i kept thinking what a waste it was of a perfectly good old man. because he was getting better and we all thought he'd be leaving the hospital soon. if he had had a stroke that first time, it would have been more acceptable. but he was getting better and it just didn't seem right for him to leave like that.
they say it is often like that. that before a person bids farewell, there's a sudden bright spark of life, of lucidity and happiness. maybe that was how we were meant to remember FIL. we had even taken pictures of him with the lamlets, and of him waving. he seemed so happy. later my sister-in-law said it looked poignant, like he was waving goodbye with finality.
that night itself there was nothing to be done. FIL would only be in the funeral parlour in a proper hall on thursday as we were having the funeral only on saturday, so that all his children and grandchildren could return to give him a proper send off. that night when the news finally sank in, how i sobbed in the quiet of the night on my own. with mum it seemed almost happy as i felt relief. she had gone home. it had been a happy occasion. for FIL, it seemed he had gone into the Big Nothing. up to the last moment, he refused Jesus as he said he was born a Buddhist and he would die one. my pastor once said that if one knows Jesus, this world is only the beginning and the best is yet to come. but if you don't know Him, this world is as good as it gets. and it felt so true as i saw FIL in his lifeless body.
in the mean time, he lay alone in the mortuary. guilt ate me up that he had to lie there a whole night in the morgue by himself. i know. he's not going to hold it against me. but i felt bad just the same.
the funeral parlor was no ramshackle deal. we were all shocked when we saw it for the first time. the lobby looked more like a hotel with a cafe attached. and the facilities included fully air-cond halls, theatre seats, a small room for relatives so that they could rest or even spend the night, replete with a recliner, beds, pillows and blankets. outside the small halls there were massage chairs and wi-fi. my lamlets were overjoyed. the package came with cakes and coffee/tea as well apart from the usual water and peanuts. shucks, it was 5-star treatment all the way. i could just imagine FIL smiling from ear to ear, chuckling at the luxury of it all. he'd probably worry about the price. and wonder what good fortune befell him that he should be the recipient of something so grand.
and so followed days of waiting and chatting to well-wishes and waiting some more. it was one of the most hi-tech funerals as well as we communicated and shared the event via skype with my brother-in-law in New York, and my nephews in North Carolina and Manchester, UK. when they sealed the coffin and had the last rites on saturday, it was finally over. FIL was cremated and on sunday, the children had to be at the temple to 'pick up his bones'.
i was exhausted and since my presence wasn't crucial, i didn't attend. i know i said i wanted to be cremated when my time came as i don't want to take up anymore space in this world, but it seemed awful that FIL was reduced to a pile of bones and ashes. being put to the ground and being worm food seemed more gradual deterioration and more acceptable. i've seen enough CSI episodes and real raw wounds and blood so i reckon i've a pretty strong stomach. but to have a body reduced to ashes in such a short matter of time is disturbing.
so now i have one less lump (lam) to worry about. in one year, a house of eight has been reduced to five people, as two folks passed and kakak went back. suddenly it seems terribly big for such a small family.
FIL bought himself a place next to his wife in the temple some 30 years ago and finally he gets to rest by her side. farewell my dearest sweetest FIL. thank you for being part of my life.
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