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The night my dad died, things hadn’t run smoothly during the day and I went to bed feeling crummy.
The night my dad died in Vancouver he was all alone. He had a stroke or a heart attack or he simply slipped in the bathroom and wedged between the vanity and the bathtub. He died, fully clothed, possibly unable to help himself up from a simple fall because of a stroke he’d had two years before. The doctor and the coroner say he suffocated.
I had a crank phone caller that night so I unplugged the phone. My sister couldn’t contact me after she’d got the news in Thunder Bay, and because she was frantic to get a hold of me, in the early morning hours I woke to the sound of knocking on the door by a very nice police officer. A police officer instead of a phone call. Our amazing support network makes me appreciate the system very much. I wish to thank that police officer very much for coming to the door that night. Your work must be very difficult at times.
Ah, here it is.
This article is because I’m mad. Mad because I can still get crank calls from blocked numbers in this day and age. Mad because I wasn’t there for my sister. Mad because I wasn’t there for my father. Mad because I went to bed feeling crummy and couldn’t save the world or find the cure for cancer or heart disease or diabetes or just plain and simple Death.
I should still be in school learning how to thwart Death. Thing is I could go to school for twenty more years and still not stop him.
In the early part of my life death occurring to those around me was a very rare occurrence. The odds were skewed crazily. So I just knew at some point that would all change. And it did. Death is now regularly knocking on the doors of the people I know. Knock knock knock.
My kinesiology focus is slipping. Help people stay healthy? Is that even possible? I couldn’t even help my own family.
Sometimes I think it’s so hard to live, so easy to die. Life is so fragile. Yet, we must, we must, I believe, hold on. Claw into life as if Death were some hurricane trying to rip us into the sky and we are not going no matter the force of that wind. Forget it. We are here. Here to stay.
So Mr Crank Caller, I hope you live a long life and get many crank calls yourself. My sister, I’m sorry you spent that night frantic and alone. I’m truly sorry. My father…I wish you wonderful journeys wherever you now are.
And Death. Hey Death. Hope to see you at the coffee bar. But not here. Not at my door. And not that door either…nor that. I’m dogging you Death. I’m telling you now, I’m letting people know how to keep you away.
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Photo Credit: Margan Zajdowicz
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