Obituaries

[Bad Dog]

(10-16-2016, 10:03 AM)pbrower2a Wrote: My father died this morning.

He had not been himself for half a year. He unwittingly messed up my life badly in most of that time. I made a point to see him last night, and I saw a look of terror that I had seen only on my mother as she approached death.

I took the dog (who had a right to know) along. Supposedly he could hear, and about the only thing I could think of was to read the Bible. If he could still hear, then that could offer more assurance than anything else. It's not that I am a religious man; I am not. I had asked the nursing home staff to try to bring over a clergyman to give him some assurances.

Psalm 23, of course, and Psalm 33... the latter a psalm that Johann Sebastian Bach set as a delightful motet (but in German and not in English as in the King James Version).

Nut today I can almost cite Schopenhauer on how I feel: Obit anus, obit onus.  It has been that hard.

I'm sorry, PRB.

It has been six years since my mother died, and I still pick up the phone to call her.

Wally.