3/7/10

I had just turned to the 57th page in the book of my life when my Father closed his. As ready as I was for his death, he had been ready for it much longer. Over the years, MS had eroded the quality of his life to the point that once when I asked, “how are you dad?”, he merely replied, “Waiting…”. The funeral was traditional, although mercifully the casket remained closed and I was spared the well meaning but misplaced comments about how “peaceful” or “natural” he looked. The established formula for a funeral and burial had been followed with the gathering of the family and a life of friends who’s numbers were reduced by the attrition of 87 years. I had not given much thought to the purposes of those rituals, until a few months later when I was confronted with the task of burying him a second time.

In the middle of doing something unrelated, Dad appeared before me. He was not alone, to his right was Brian, and to his left was Dan. This was not some ghostly apparition, but there he was. Almost reflexively I reached out to touch him, but I knew that he could not, would not, answer in response… there was no longer any meaning attached to him being there. It was for me to again bury him. 

The contrasts between his first internment and this second unexpected one were stark. Then, I had been surrounded by those who had shared his life. Now I was alone. Before, there had been well ordered preparation. Here I was caught unaware. The disposition of my father’s body had been accomplished by strangers who were trained experts of their trade. Here, I knew that I could not delegate the closing of this “casket”. 

It was silly for me to hesitate, but sentiment restrained my hand. I compelled myself to touch Dad in a way that would forever take him from my eyes. A bit of ironic cruelty was inserted into the moment as he asked me whether I was sure I wanted to do this. “Yes Dad…”, I touched him a second time and he was gone. It was as if he had never been there. No monument or marker would be erected, he just ceased to be… Brian and Dan were now shoulder to shoulder and I closed the cover of my cell phone.


- Pete Schloss