The End

I had spent months planning a vacation with my father, it was to have been in May but his hospital called.  He was in ER in a coma.  I had just talked with him, only hours earlier, firming up the plans for the trip.  The doctor's suggestion, be there now.

So, through the greatest of effort I was able to arrive the next night.  My sister would be arriving the following morning.

The next day was Tuesday, and I made it to the hospital.  He was in the Critical Care Unit.  No one could actually tell me what happened other than he just started gushing blood after talking with me.  He wasn't gushing anymore: his monitors told of a failing heart, failing lungs, all of his internal organs were failing.  I left a message for my sister to come immediately to the hospital when she got off the plane.  I really did not think he had much time left.

It would have been so much easier if he could have talked.  Instead, just the sound of a respirator and clicking of an IV machine.  What can you say?  A lifetime of failed communications and denied desires to clear up, but he was not there.  The monitors continued to show the declining condition of his body for the next hour.

My sister arrived and we discussed moving him to a hospice where at least he would be well treated and perhaps even recover (you never know!).  We started to leave to go get an early lunch.

But, the nurse was about 30 seconds behind us, to tell us, he had already passed away.  They were changing his breathing tube when a massive heart attack got him.  What can you say?  At least he did not suffer the passing.....

The rest of the week was a disaster as we planned for a funeral, memorial, contacting business clients and friends.  The hardest for me was to tell his sisters, whom I love dearly, that someone whom had been their antagonist for the duration of their lives, was now gone.

Nothing about father's life was simple.
Nothing about father could be taken at face value.
Nothing about father was the truth.
And into this murky underworld of Cold War Politics, his body "disappeared"!

Had father really died?  I do not know.
Had father been taken to start a new life, with yet another name change?  I do not know.
Had father's body been taken for experimentation?  Given what the US government did to Einstein, maybe.
Had father's work rendered his body dangerous?  Could be.

Step-mother and my sister setting the wreath.

But, no matter how you looked at it, father was not whom we buried.  It sure looked like he had died though.  I was with both my grandmother and her sister when their time came.

As it was, this passing had been anticipated by him and he had taken the greatest of liberties during his final days.  Something I was to learn, not only how he thought, but how mathematics can be a very valuable tool.....