About an hour after posting my last post, my lovely brave Daddy slipped away from us. Surrounded by my Mum, the love of his life, and his five children (plus one son-in-law), he died knowing that he was loved and cherished.
He had given Mum instructions on what he wanted done once he’d passed … ‘paying the ferryman’ with coins on his eyelids, his mouth closed (I sat there for an hour holding his chin to keep it closed until rigor mortis took over and kept it closed), the window open for at half an hour so that his spirit could escape (we kept it open for four hours, just to make sure he’d gone!) … and finally, when Mum pulled back the covers so that she could cross his arms over his chest (a Catholic tradition, apparently), we found that his arms were already crossed. That beautiful man must’ve known that he was breathing his last, and did it with his dying breaths. That somehow means so much … he was Dad to the last.
There’s now a huge hole in our lives … but we are a close family and we will learn to adapt to a life without him.
RIP my lovely Daddy …