They're All Dead

Sunday January 1st, 2012 - Fox Lake, IL

   Well, it sure didn’t take long for things to start happening in 2012. I’d finally drifted off to sleep around 5am, only to be kick started back to reality around 7 by a phone call from my cousin Brett informing me his father, who is also my uncle, had died within the hour.

   This had been coming for quite a while and was no surprise, but I guess I didn’t expect it on New Year’s Day and it still caught me a little off guard. I spent more time with him growing up than I did with my own father, but he ended up turning into a villain. It’s sad.

   It’s even sadder the classless way he went out. He was a belligerent selfish lout just like my father, but even surpassed the coldness of his older brother by removing his son from the will - even though he didn’t leave any money to anyone. He was in debt, and a loser.

   I know that parents and siblings can have strained relationships, but I can’t imagine how anyone could know they’re dying and not lighten up a little. Even my father, who also left a pile of unpaid bills and little else behind, didn’t remove me from the will. I signed away my rights as a courtesy to my siblings, who never even said thank you. That’s our family.

   We are the real life Munsters, and just when I think it can’t get any lower class or more embarrassingly painful, it usually does. It’s been a constant uphill struggle throughout life to stay the course and not give up, as there’s been little to no support from those who are traditionally supposed to give it. My cousin Brett and I feel like we’ve been lone wolves.

   I asked him how he felt about it, just like he asked me when my father died a few years ago. Just like with me, he said he had no emotion whatsoever. All the damage was done a long time ago, and this was just the sad ending to a painful story. Nobody was a winner.

   I also talked to my cousin Leah, who was at the hospice when he died. The nurse called to say the end was near, so she and her husband Rob and their daughter Janine went to be with him as he checked out. Leah wanted to get some kind of closure to all the ugliness.

   Apparently, from what I heard, my father was a defiant jackass right up to the bitter end and criticized all the children mercilessly. I’m glad I wasn’t there, as I would have taken a pillow and sat on it over his face to speed up the process. Sorry, I don’t suffer idiots well.

   According to Leah, when they got to his room he was still lucid enough to recognize all of them. This was his last chance to say something of lasting significance, but all he could muster was “Well…I’m croaking.” That was it. No mention of love. No gratitude for their kindness in taking care of him in his last days. No remorse. He went out like all the rest.

   This whole thing leaves a bitter taste in my mouth, and Brett and Leah aren’t too happy with any of it either. The only good thing is, he was the last of the family Mohicans. They are ALL dead now, and the world isn’t any worse off for it. What a shame, and we all feel a hole inside that can never be filled. That’s how it is in our family. Don’t you feel better?

Posted via email from Dobie Maxwell's "Dented Can" Diary