On the 28th of November, my father, after 80 years on the planet, after service in WWII and Korea, in both the US Marines and US Navy, after 26 years with Ford Motor Company, peacefully, quietly, quickly and with dignity, died.
He ended up in the hospital several weeks after a fall, with a large aneurysm behind his knee. After surgery to repair that and some time in the skilled nursing facility in the hospital for rehab, I made the decision to have him come home to a care taker. His house was barely fit for him to live in, so I began cleaning it up and while doing so had the foresight to get power of attorney so I could pay his bills in the interim.
He was ready to leave the hospital’s facility, and because his house wasn’t ready yet, went to another skilled care facility. He was there for a few weeks, and almost every day I would go and visit him. Two days before he died, he, through the mask of dementia that shadowed his mind, asked me a simple question. “Son, how did I get myself into this mess?” He realized where he was, and was none too happy about it. I tried to comfort him and tell him how hard I was working to clean his place out so he can come home.
The next day I went to visit him, his breathing was shallow and he was not responding to me at all. That night they transported him to the hospital, and 12 hours later, he died. Simply and quietly died. No heroic measures, no ventilator, no flogging his 80 year old body through course after course of drugs and cpr and
shocks. He deserved better than that.
The truth is, we had been on the outs for a while as the aforementioned dementia had brought him to a dark and paranoid place, and try as I might, I couldn’t get him to understand that I didn’t want all of his earthly possessions.
This last month since his surgery though, he was happy, nice, even jovial. We had a chance to repair our relationship to a degree, and for that I am thankful. We never did do the things we talked about, which I don’t necessarily regret, but I wish we had. I will miss him. Since my mother died in 2001 (at the age of 58), both my parents are now gone, and that chapter of my life closed. It is the most difficult thing I’ve had to face to date. That connection is gone, and my history is in my hands alone. It is a growing experience.
Now for the lessons.
- My dad died without a will. Do NOT do this to your children, spouse, SO, whoever. Write a will and make damn sure it’s legal in your state. 1a. If you have insurance, death benefits, bank accounts, whatever; get the envelope together with all of your information in it, and keep in in a safe place.
It’s also a good idea to have a living will and/or power of attorney ready and signed in the envelope.
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Talk about, then write down your wishes regarding burial / cremation / cryogenics / whatever. Don’t make them guess. (an option for those looking into cremation, www.neptunesociety.com, they take care of everything.)
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If you can do it, pay for everything upfront. The funeral industry seems to be absolutely riddled with greedy, crooked bastards. In our area (Chicago) you can’t even THINK about a funeral for less than $4,500, which doesn’t include dressing, casket, embalming, transportation, registration book and holy cards, which together can add up to $10,000. Cremation knocks between $1,000 and $2,500 off of that. Even though my dad had a plot, he couldn’t afford to be buried there because of all of the assorted fees that went along with burial, which aren’t covered in the original $10,000.
We nearly had to cremate him because of the expense, and that’s something I don’t think he would have wanted. Fortunately, there is a network of people that provide nearly at-cost funerals including caskets and direct cremations specifically for veterans (and sometimes for non-vets). Google veterans funeral services for your local service. BTW, the markup on a casket is several hundred percent. Seriously.
3a. On that topic; If you’re a veteran, make sure you find out if you’re eligible for one of the many national cemetaries. You and your spouse can be interred or inurned there together free of charge if you’re eligible, which saves anywhere from $1,900 to $5,000. As an aside, the military funeral is one of the most moving tributes I have ever seen (and I’ve been going to firefighter and police funerals for 17 years) even if you don’t have someone in the service, go to your closest national cemetary for an afternoon and wait. You’ll see one. Bring kleenex.
- Throw things out. My father kept everything that he came across. EVERYTHING. Get yourself in the habit of throwing things out. It’s hard enough and sad enough that your loved ones have to carry on without you, don’t make them hate you as they clean up your mess.
It’s been, and will continue to be an insane trip through a legal and emotional minefield until I can close his legacy, then I can truly start to grieve.
Thanks for reading.