My father and grandfather passed away last week, two days apart from each other. My father had just been diagnosed last month with aplastic anemia, possibly a side effect of his seizure medication. My grandfather was 96 and had been ill for a month. His time had just come. Their doctors had let us know last month that they were both not long for this world, so we were prepared in a way, but were still caught unawares because we didn’t expect it for a few months.
They both had beautiful funerals. My father received an aria of Bach and Gounod’s Ave Maria at church, and the Armed Service Corps sent a detail to perform the guard of honor for my grandfather’s last journey to the crematorium.
These were two very different men, but the one thing they had in common was their strong sense of self. So strong, in fact, that no person on earth and no force of nature could move them once their minds were set on an action, a decision, or just a random idea. Every strand of DNA in my body is grateful for this powerful legacy.
This here was one of my father’s favorite songs. He used to put on a fake baritone and belt it out whenever he heard it in passing. It sums up both these men’s lives succinctly. I’ve used the lyric video because I didn’t want any of the meaning to slip through the cracks.
Chill maadi.]
