Sunray is down. Sunray
passed away died one week ago. Sunray is was my Dad.
How do I feel about his
passing away death?
- 80% relieved
- 10% “It hasn’t really sunk in yet”
- 10%… well, I’m not sure
Thankfully when death came, it came quickly. Heart attack on the way back from the shops. I had feared bluebottles at the window, police having to smash down his front door and find his lifeless body on the sofa. I am grateful that when the end came, it came relatively swiftly.
For the last three to four years Sunray had not been enjoying life.
- Riddled with arthritis
- Out of control diabetes
- Personality disorder
- A sad, lonely, unwashed, embittered old man, his only company – a bottle of whisky and twenty Benson & Hedges cigarettes
- Estranged from almost all his family
- At best, tolerated by the rest of his family
A very pitiable end of life.
Will I go to his funeral? No. Will there even be a funeral service? No. Sunray had fallen out with his family so badly over the years, that nobody was prepared to organise or pay for his funeral. Maybe his ex-Squadron Sergeant-Major from Army days would have come. But nobody else.
Despite his faults I did love and care for him. Agape love. My last contact with him had been a phone call four days before his death, a very jovial call. Was he on the way up?
I will visit his grave later in the year, say a prayer over his grave. That is more meaningful to me and to him than a Theaterstück of a funeral service, where kind words and cliches are said to an almost empty room. I’m not bothered about seeing his body one last time. I am more concerned about his soul.
Heavenly Father, I beg You, have mercy on Dad’s soul. Amen.
Have a merciful day, won’t you!