My father departed the morning of September 9th, 2009.
The Hospice nurse said that it was a peaceful passing, and we observed no evidence to the contrary.
Since my mother and I are women possessed of faith, and because this conclusion to the spiral of his End-stage Renal Failure was known, we are doing well.
--We get that odd shudder when we hear things on the TV that he had a strong reaction to, and as we go through his photos for the memorial, later this month. Sitting at the e-mac we recently purchased him, and realising that he won't be coming back, was a bit surreal, but I have a good feeling that he is in the noblest company of his/my ancestors --nomad warrior-poets, generals, mystics, clock-makers, and educators for generations upon generations.
He was Professor Emeritus, French Language instructor; Photojournalist with many shots with his US film idols of that bygone era; and an early adopter of most technologies, and especially those of a film and video nature. He mastered three languages, was fluent in a half-dozen others, and had travelled through much of the Northern/Western hemisphere both on business and pleasure.
--He had been chosen by the UN to teach in an African nation (no longer extant), but immediately prior to his making landfall, the nation in question became a Communist state, prematurely ending that position.
While no angel, I think that the traits I both inherited and learned from him are singularly wonderful, and after a tumultuous relationship with him for most of my life, we were finally reconciled over the past decade.
I believe we shall meet again, in joy.
