Dad's Passing

My Dad passed away 1 month and 1 day ago today.

Dad had stomach cancer - a fast-moving type of cancer with no cure. He was diagnosed late last year. So when he passed, as sad as it was, we saw it coming, which makes it a little easier to deal with.

Dad and I didn’t have the closest relationship in the world - he and Mum were divorced when I was born and I have always lived with Mum, so our relationship has been somewhat distant. But in the last 10-15 years or so it had become better, and he slowly turned around to support the idea of me  being a musician. He completely disliked the idea back in the old days and wanted me to get an MBA.

Despite it being sad and everything, there are a lot of positives to take from it. In addition to being able to prepare for such an event, as described above, Dad got to do a lot of things and see a lot of people in the final few months before his death.

He got to make one last visit to his winery (flew in by helicopter) and visit the staff and set foot on the grounds, feel the machine and smell the flowers. A lot of people spoke to him, even if he didn’t speak much in return (cancer really wears you out) they all got to say their last goodbye, although no-one really said it that way.

 Dad was also in a fair bit of pain in the final few days, so we’re glad that part didn’t drag on too long. Gradually the cancer had worked its way to his diaphragm so it became difficult to talk, and eventually he couldn’t. The pain continued to rise and rise, the nurses gave him more and more morphine....until eventually he was in some sort of induced coma. He was breathing funny too - apparently fluid had found its way into his larynx, so he made this gargling sound when we breathed in and out. I’m told that while it sounds quite disturbing, it’s quite normal and doesn’t affect his ability to breathe.

During these final few hours, I went and spoke to him, even though he was in this coma. It seems to be common knowledge that people in a coma can still hear you, even if they can’t respond....there have been many cases where people coming OUT of a coma and remember what their loved ones have said while in it.

So, I had a final chat to Dad and held his hand for a bit. I started with some simple talk about my new job at the airport, some of the training we were going through and the piece of music I have written recently. I told him that he was almost there - the last few months had been really tough for him both mentally and physically. Being a very independent person, he never quite adjusted to being fully dependent on others, this depressed him a great deal. He simply couldn’t get on with the things he wanted to get on with, without great effort - and sometimes not at all. The last 72 hours were particularly painful on his body, and him not being able to speak I’m sure made it worse.

I told him he was almost at the finish line. That it’s nearly over. That he’s done so well, and that he had lived way longer than anyone’s expectations, including the doctors. I told him I was sorry I hadn’t found a partner yet but that I would keep trying and keep looking. I told him I will do my best to make some kind of decent contribution to this place called earth, which he was not far from leaving. I kissed him on the forehead and said goodbye.

A few hours later I got a phone call. In the presence of both my sisters while they were giving his feet a massage, he finally let go. I wasn’t there, but the nurses later told me that he had waited for me.

I was actually quite at peace with the whole thing, for reasons stated above. I was glad he had finally moved on, happy that he was now resting peacefully somewhere. So much so that I actually went to work the next day. I thought about him most of the time....but not to the point of being distracted and not being able to concentrate, but just thinking of him. Wondering if he could actually see me sitting in the hold of the airplane, loading passengers luggage....and actually making a hash of it first time round. Wonder what he’d think of all that.

Dad’s funeral went really well. Many attended and I think dad would have loved to have all his mates there in the one place. The speeches were really good with bits of humour sprinkled here and there - exactly what he would have liked. He wouldn’t have wanted a long, slow and sad funeral service. It was 45 minutes long and was interesting with the different speakers and a photo slide show. Each speaker gave a unique point of view as to how they new Dad.

My sister gave the Eulogy and I was more than happy to contribute some of my music. We managed to get the same 4 musicians that we used for the YouTube video - which Dad saw a few weeks before he died, and consequently requested for the service. We had the wake (like a reception - I had never heard of that term before) after the funeral with light food etc at a function centre, it was nice but I had to talk non-stop to all sorts of people. Being the son of the deceased everyone wants a chat with you.


It’s funny, in a way I can’t believe how well I’m actually handling all this. Either that or it hasn’t sunk in yet, or possibly a bit of both. There was a slide show of photos played at the funeral, photos from Dad’s life. My uncle put them together with some music by Scott Joplin. He made a DVD for me and other family members, which I still watch every few days, and I get a little teary when I watch it. When you see all the things he did and people that he interacted with, wearing his trademark rough clothes or bland suits, sometimes I can’t believe he’s actually gone. Then I finish watching the DVD, and carry on with whatever I’m doing.
I think about him every day, reminded of just how precious life is. Once diagnosed, Dad only lasted 7-8 months. We’re not here for long, so we should try to really make a go of it, connect with people we love, meet new people we love and perform some duty that makes our realm a better place.

And somehow, at the same time, not take life too seriously.


Miss you Dad xo