My best friend's father died a week ago. He was an interesting and complex man. Even though he was only 68, I am not sad for him. He was a man who had struggled with many demons all his life. He was an alcoholic who had at times been on depressive benders that ended with suicide threats and attempts. My best friend never questioned him. She just always picked up the pieces and got him back on his feet. She loved him so much and he her. It seems, thankfully, he passed away peacefully. In his final years he had moved back to be around his daughter, son-in-law and granddaughter. He had a simple alcohol-free life, working hard and staying active. He regularly babysat and doted on not only his granddaughter but also his daughter. I am happy for him that he had such joy in his final year and died at a time when his demons were not chasing him to his grave. It was as if it may have just been his time. I am so glad to have known him even though I could not say I knew him well. He had such an interesting life and was the closest family my friend has ever known. He will be missed by all that knew him.
However, my sadness is unreserved when I think of my best friend. My smiles and warmest hugs extend to her every hour of every day during this sad and difficult time. With an eleven month old and little family support I wish I lived closer to her. The funeral was Friday. People drove from Sydney and Melbourne and her mother (divorced from her father years ago) flew in from the UK. My friend held herself together and was her usual strong self. It was obvious to me that she was drained. My worry is for her in the weeks to come. When the days without her Dad string together and the sadness possibly becomes too much.
My tears at the funeral were for my friend and her gorgeous little girl (soon to be officially my god daughter) Her eulogy spoke of her sadness for her little one who will never remember how much her grandaddy loved her (we will all tell her) and the games he used to play endlessly to make her giggle. (we will all tell her that too)
He was a great Dad and a great Granddaddy.
In memory of Ron.