[Apr 2013] My Father’s Funeral

I faced another hard day today. I went to my father’s ashes in the morning, to the mortician in the city, right next to the hospital he had died in. I was really afraid of the whole experience, but I could be quite stable and calm. I did the paperwork, paid what I had to, sat into my car, and drove home to my mother with my father’s ashes on the back-seat. I was driving alone. I wanted to be alone. I left my girlfriend in the city, and planned to get back for her in the evening.

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[Apr 2013] Compassion in Grief

I am scheduling events in my calendar, and I don’t really believe it. It is absolutely unbelievable. As if it didn’t happen to me and to my daddy. I have events in my calendar like “Choosing grave”, “Going for father’s ashes”, “Father’s funeral”, “Mass for father”. So unbelievable, so distant, while I still have the reflex to grab my phone and call daddy to talk to him. Or that I just step by the hospital to visit him. Or many times I just don’t think about it, as if everything was alright, and he was living his little life at home, carefree…

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[Mar 2013] Broken Family Idyll

Today is my first morning without my father. I can hardly get out of bed. I hardly woke up and I am already thinking about how to say to mother that we should not hire the cheaper mortician from next town, because it is complicated and conflict-prone to bring him to town, even if it is cheaper. I want to keep the family peace as much as I can, but I don’t want to create a conflict about the funeral. I am afraid that she is not going to understand the situation and my point, no matter how nicely, kindly, and calmly I try to say it.

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[Mar 2013] The Day my Father Died

After finishing our lunch, we went home with my car, but I asked my brother to drive. I sat to the rear-right seat. I prefer travelling there, especially because I wanted to hide from everything and everybody. I didn’t want to be noticed at all. I asked my mother to wait with all the phone-calls for a while, we¬†could¬†figure out everything at home. She told me that she had already told it to three of her friends. But when? Right away after I called her? Or during they came to the hospital?

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[Mar 2013] The Death of my Father

It is Friday evening. It was exactly 13 months ago, when we started our fight with cancer, and now I am sitting at your death-bed in the Oncology Institution, and I am watching your last breaths. Your last roommate could go home today, so there is only you and me in this two-bed room.

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[Mar 2013] My Father’s Last Days


I knew this was the beginning of the last days. I knew it for sure. I was still lying in my bed in my apartment, when my brother called me happily, that father was let home from the hospital. I couldn’t believe what I just heard.

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[Mar 2013] Intact Soul in a Rotting Body

It is Sunday evening, and I am back in the city. I am at the hospital with my father. In the familiar, intimate atmosphere. The city outside is far away, nearly sleeping. Everybody has done everything for today. Even the hospital has quieted down. In most rooms the night has already arrived. Even the resident nurse has returned to her room. Nobody and nothing disturbs us. Time has slowed down, nearly stopped. Nothing matters to my father outside this room anymore. He has nothing left to do in life. This feeling has caught me as well. I have to go to work tomorrow, but I don’t really care. Now it seems so far away, that it may never come.

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