May 14, 1934 – March 27, 2016
My father passed this morning. He died peacefully in his sleep.
His health had been failing precipitously for many weeks now. He spent a week in the hospital in February (and I am grateful I got to spend time in person with him then), but luckily he was able to come home and be cared for in his own house in his own bedroom for the last six weeks. That was what he wanted. He wanted to be home.
My mother, brother and I are sad we didn’t get a few more years with him, but are comforted that his passing was not too difficult, that he was mostly comfortable, and that he was where he wanted to be, at home, with my mother.
As is wont to happen in times like these, strange thoughts enter the mind. And as Ed made a remark about today being Easter, I thought about the irony of my secular Jewish father passing today, and found myself channeling Dad’s brash sense of humor, imagining him in his prime making a joke about it all, raising his arms while pretending to be dancing on a table and shouting out “The Ashkenasi has Risen!”
I mimicked the pose and for a short moment felt like I had become my father.
I love you Dad. Rest in Peace.