Caerwyn

Spectatum veniunt, veniunt spectentur ut ipsae

The death of a father.
Oktober 2001
Thanks  to Michelly, who gave me the title and the inspiration to write this

It took me some years before I was ready to write this.
I think that now, four years later, is the right time.

Let's first specify a definition.
What is a father?
Is it someone who makes a woman pregnant?
In a technical sense it is, but life is not a technicallity.
Then what is a father ? ?
A father is someone who's there for his wife and children (his or even someone else's) , supports, sometimes warns, sometimes going along with their sillyness.
Someone who you can talk to, even when no return is expected or given.
Someone with his own faults, and who lovingly forgives the faults of others within his family.
I'm almost certain not complete here, but it is my story, my experience.

But first about life.
When does it start  ?  Must have been 1976.
As some already know, my biological father decided to leave when I was 12.
One time there was this stepfather, who left me no other option then knuckle him out of the house.
A long period of just staying alive and go with the flow.
All in all not even a bad period, lots better then my early years, before my bio-father left.
I lived with my mum in a small flat, she was a nurse, I worked as a bookprinter, and after a period of utter poverty and daily stress, we finaly reached this period of financial stability and rest.
Though I didn't lke my job very much, life was good for my mum, she was invited to become directing manager of a maternity clinic.

In those weeks there were these dancing lessons in at the community centre.
People from the community centre knew me already, and knew also that I had quite a nice PA setup, so I was taken aboard to to the music.
My mother wanted to learn dancing, she never had any lessons, so she came along with me.
That was fun !  I was behind the mixer, while an elegant man gave the lessons.
And as the evening progressed, he became more elegant (:-)).
After a few evenings, my mother and me didn't go home together anymore, I was busy with putting the stuff back into the car, my mum was busy with the dancing teacher.
He turned out to be widower with three kids, two girls and a boy.
Girls ?  I like gilrs, so I had my mum point out who those girls were (she had "inside information" straight from the source).
So she went to that family for some coffe, and another time, and another, and I went along (for the girls of course) and it was all very pleasant..
After a few weeks, I spoke to the oldest girl in private, and she suspected "something going on" between her dad and my mum.
I wasn't surprised, I also noticed something.
Not much later, it came out in the open.
My mum got involved with this family, wich was not without problems.
Debts, booze, youngest daughter seeing wrong friends, and more of that stuff.
She had to make a choice.
Becoming managing director of the maternity clinic, or get involved deeper with this family, wich would be hard to combine.
Though I cautious tried to push her towards the clinic, she decided to choose for that family, as she felt she was needed there more then in the clinic.
And so it happened that we  moved in with that family, and I became the oldest of four, instead of the youngest of two (My older brother already left the house long before).
Briefly, there was some friction.
At the age of 15, I was as free as a bird, could do whatever I wanted, and now, at 21 I had to be the "good example" beeing home at 24:00 no booze etc.
I could not go along with that.
Finally, I did give in a little, but not very much. 

The situation was not simple.
The teacher, Ben was his name, liked to drink quite a bit more then what was to be condidered social drinking.
There was also this caravan in the north of the country wich was way to expensive and just coulnd be payed for.
Now I liked that caravan, so I decided to put a quarter of my income to the pay off, so we didn't have to sell it.
The girls were in their mid puberty (no explanation needed I guess (:-)). and the falt was so small, there was no room for me, and I had my "room" in the hall
Fortunately, we could rent a nice new house that had room enough.
That period of my life I still consider the happiest of my life, that was home.
We lived the usual family life.
My mum didn't want us to lent money from or to each other, we had to find a way to do with what we had.
Ben was put' on a small allowance of booze and Bram, a friend of me for years already, had sometyhing going on with the oldest of my new sisters.
One of the standard dishes was a mix of carrots and peas.
I didn't like carrots and my oldest sister didn't like peas, so when my mum didn't look, we quickly exchanged some of the stuff on our plates.
Besides of my mum, everyone noticed, smiled, and didn't say a thing.
Then there was this financial conspiracy wich involved us all, exept for my mother of course.
Though it was stricktly forbidden, we all lent money to and from each other, and when we didn't know who earned how much from another, we declared the balance zero, and started all over again.
Ben was in this conspiracy too, up until his neck ! (:-)).
Sometimes I went to the liquor store to get me some booze, and then sometimes I got "the wink" from Ben, telling me he was out of ration.
Then I bought him a bottle of his favorite booze, and put it in his secret place in the shed.
We all did so when he asked us to, not just because we knew he liked it, but also because it somehow 'bonds" you together.
This way, we learned that you can only win someone's trust by showing your own weaknesses.
It worked, no big words, it just worked, because we were a real and close family.

Years go by, one after another leaves the house, until only mum and dad are left in the house.

Oktober 2001.
My wife and me live in another part of the country.
I'm not home, I'm with some friends that have a PC problem, and I'm trying to solve it for them.
My handy rings., it's my wife, there's something wrong with Ben, very wrong, he's in the hospital, intensive care.
I speed home, and after speaking on the phone with the other family members I decide to travel "Back home", to the hospital, so do the other family members.

I see you  Ben, you're hooked up to a monitor, oxygen, and a morfine drip.
I know I went back to my wife that night, and after taking care of things, went up to the hospital again, but I have no recall of that.
I only remember the hospital, the room designated for our family, the smoking boot.
Maybe some of us were not there all the time, but it still feels like we were, all and permanently.
Walking up to Ben, softly talking to him,  in spite of the very deep coma he's in.
Sometimes alone, sometimes with another familymember.
Kept alive by the oxygen, kept calm from the convulsions by morphine (lots of it) and we all knew there was no improvement.
We knew that without words.
We collectivelly realized you would not make it, we all knew it, again without words.
Hugging each other, spontaneously, sometimes one, then another, and not only the familymembers, also ones married into the family.
Red eyes, secretly crying, openly crying, no words.
Up to your bed, back to "our" room, to the smokeboot, facing each other, touching each other, together, never let another one alone.
Then we are called to the briefing room.
We have to wait a couple of minutes before the docter arrives.
Someone makes a smart remark, another one makes a remark about that, it was about you Ben, and a moment later we are all  laughing.
But it's not like when you watch a funny show, it's a different laugh.
You're not supposed to laugh in a situation like this, but we still do it, do something youre not supposed to, just like we used to back then.
It gives us the break we need.
Then the nurse and the doctor arrive.
We all know why, "the question" will be asked.
And indeed ...
Some seconds for a deadly silence.
We look at each other say nothing, read each others faces, read each others eyes.
Wet eyes.
Then my oldest sister speaks:
"I think I speak for all of us when I say it's been enough, and we should not postpone the inevitable"
(Thank you for those words sis, you're great.)
A quick last look from every face to every face, the approval is pobably not noticeable for an outsider but we know we are unanimous, without words.
The doctor looks around but everyone reacts the same.
We pull back to our room, no one wants to see that last deed.
It only takes seconds to shut the oxygen.
Now we can only wait.
And again we go, alone, together, to your bed.
You seem to get restless, as your body cant get enough oxygen.

Cling to the morphine Ben, old pal.
It's allright, you're not gonna make it anyway.
Let go Ben, don't try to fight, you don't have a change, and neither do we.
If there is any change of life, it's not the life you want.
Believe me dammit !  Ben!   Let go !
The eternal bottle of booze awaits you, just go and get it, you earned it.

Finally, you calm down, accepted the inevitable.
Then, way too slow, we see the oxygen leven in your blood drop on the monitor.
In that last moments, I hold your hand, and kiss your bald head. I wish you a good journey.
The monitor gives no alarm, that was switched off already.
We will never go moonlighting together anymore Ben, from now on I have to do without you, the others too.

Then, not certain when because the last days have been a fuddle, one of the staffmembers talks to us.
The staff noticed that there's not much real next of kin in this group.
And they just can't figure out who's with who, and why.
She concludes that this family is a pack, a heap. (hard to translate, but the duch wordt for it is both negative andpositive).
And that's what we are, so we take it as a compliment.
Stepbrothers, stepsisters, stepmother and stepfather en of course the in-laws.
Tha staff heard us talk, heard us not talk, noticed the way we went along with each other, and it amazed them, because in families of 100% bloodrelated people things were usually quite different.
But not with us.
No overheated deliberations, no discussions, just looks from one to another, a hand, a tear and sometimes a half spoken sentence, to be cut of by a lump in the throat.

What is a family?
Father, mother, kids and we all live happily ever after ?
No, a family is a bond.
A bond between people that not automatically cling together because they're supposed to, but people who have learned how, and morever why they should.
And that's your legacy Ben, we won't drop each other, whatever happens.
Your legacy is bigger then an outsider will ever understand..

We were not bloodrelated, but you're my father ... Dad.