Bernie

After a long,  painful at times and possibly unnecessarily stoic illness my father-in-law, Bernie, died around 01:00 yesterday morning.

He died as he wanted to die,  not surrounded by grief-stricken family, but alone, peacefully with as much of his dignity left intact by the cruel pancreatic cancer.

For those of us left bereft and so saddened by his passing we are forever grateful that one of the nurses at Clare Holland House, the local hospice, doing her hourly rounds, happened upon Bernie as he died. She was able to assure us that he passed very peacefully and without pain.

Cancer, in any form, is a terrible disease.
It reduced this wonderful father-in-law from a bright, fit, vigorous 78 year old to an 80 year old husk; able to communicate only by blinks towards the end.
An article written by an oncologist in the UK (I think) recently did the rounds by social media. In this, the oncologist stated that cancer was not a bad way to die because it allowed the sufferer to organise their remaining life and affairs before they died.
Well, in Bernie's case, yes, he did organise his affairs well in advance. He had it all planned; divested himself of possessions and assets months prior. So organised was he in getting rid of no longer needed clothes that, on finding he was still alive long after he'd calculared he would have died that he had to go out and buy some essentials like jocks & socks and a couple of shirts. He was narky. We all laughed.

It's an essential part of this process that we retain humour.  Humour keeps us sane and balanced. Without humour we'd go absolutely screwy. As a family, and I don't think we're exceptional here, there's a streak of black humour always present.
My father-in-law was not a foodie: plain and simple, only in later years did he branch out in to 'funny tucker' like Vietnamese fresh spring rolls and the occasional Chinese dish.
So while a couple of my brothers-in-law who had come to the hospice in the early morning yesterday to say goodbye, were in Bernie's room around his bed (which Bernie still occupied), the jokes started about having an Indian meal with plenty of chilli in Bernie's honour and memory.

We all knew what his response would have been.