the funeral

4 Days ago, it was Thursday, I called my sister. I asked her what she was planning for the Friday because the funeral would be on that day.
She didn't really know wether she would go. She's had her reasons not to go, as I've had.

I wrote some thoughts down and it crossed my mind that however I have done my utmost being there when he's dying I had to show that I'm stronger then he was. My sister came to the same conclusion Friday morning. So together we drove to the small village where he would be cremated

So I went to his funeral. Well, it was a last farewell. We asked to see him in private before the ceremony. The next 5 to 10 minutes were painfull. I came to the conclusion that he's dead when I saw him in his coffin. He didn't look very good, that was very painfull but when I saw a picture of him in his so called life I don't know anything about. I thought "okay he wanted that. He's much older from the days I knew him, but yes that's my dad". He realized a dream, but was it worth it? He finally lost more. He lost his family.

When I realized his death I had to cry, I couldn't control these sudden emotions. It was from the inside and because of him. I felt sorry for him, 62 years old; the last 24 years with heartproblems.

The end.

What a weekend.... My dad died 27 hours ago after being in a coma for 4 days.

Nothing happened really... I said goodbye just before the weekend. However Sunday at 2 pm my sister called to say that if I wanted to see him for the last time I had to come quickly.
Unfortunately I just came home after 2 hours training. After a shower, I packed my case and took the next train north, to G. It was delayed.
Was it one of the black cats I saw cycling hours before?

At 16.53 I called my sister. I don't know why I just had a feeling something was wrong. Maybe a song of Shakira on my mp3 made me feel so?

As I called her, my sister said it's better to tell you right now,our dad died.
I was sitting in a crowded train when she told it. I was emotional but could control it on the English way, a stiff upper lip. I couldn't pronounce words of 2 syllables or more. I felt defeated.

However when I arrived in G. I walked and ran to the hospital. Ouch, in the weekend they close the entrance I considered being opened. I had to take the main entrance.

Finally I made it to my dad. It took me 2.5 hours. 45 Minutes to late.

He was already in a spare room where my sister and I talked about his qualities, his bad and good habits, his shortcomings. Sometimes he gave an eye-wink I imagined and he smiled all the time. Yes, he laid on the bed peacefully like a pirate with great grey whiskers and white long hair combed to the back of his scull. Seemingly thanking for pardoning his mistakes and ending his suffering. Is this the end of 20 years or more trying to be out of sight? Sure is that at the end of the week he'll submerge for good.

I loved you dad and I wish you showed more to us.

Family

Many people have a complex family structure. A structure which originates from marriages and divorces, where children are between the parties involved.

So is my family. My mother is with her third man and my father is with his third wife.
The 1st man of my mother is my father, her 2nd one died and the 3rd man was a soldier in the middle of the Srebrenica massacre in 1995. He left the army and does the work he likes. He's also divorced and he works to pay the maintenance allowance for his wife who refuses to work.

My father divorced my mother in 1978 and married another woman shortly after my mother remarried. Sadly after 5 years my father's marriage didn't work and I was in the middle of it. No fights however, only words. My father was irresponsible. They divorced and I stayed with my father. After weeks that didn't work out and I chose to stay with his 2nd wife. When I went to college I spoke him once. Later I phoned him a couple of times. In fact I phoned him 2 weeks ago to make sure that he was still alive.
His 3rd wife arrived shortly after. I never spoke to her.

This evening I brought myself a Suriname rice-beans-chicken dinner. I usually don't do that. When I wanted to eat the telephone rang. It was my mother. She never called so early so it must be something. I asked her if it was something serious because I wanted to eat. After dinner I would call her back.

I did so. She told me that my fathers wife called. I had to call her back. He isn't well. He had a stroke and his heart didn't work to long. He's kept in a coma now. His brains might have had less oxygen I think and as a consequence his lungs don't work now.

Why am I called now. Why isn't he wise enough to search for contact. I phoned him a couple of times. Now I am told that he can't stand disappointments... I'm a little disappointed in my father. He forgot his children not withstanding his disappointments sofar.
But can I say that, he is my father after all.