He died tonight.
Home from the hospital on Wednesday, with his children around him. He was laughing and joking this morning but was very clear that he was ready to go.
It seems we were right to joke that his strong will to live was what kept him here through heart attacks and cancer, through diabetes and infections. When he said he was ready to go, he meant it. He let go.
He used to skip with me down the street and this last time we saw him he sang the silly song to Muffin Man that he used to sing with me when we skipped.
He was a Physics professor. I've seen a film of him teaching - completely incomprehensible to me, but MS said it was a good lesson. I'm looking right now at two books he gave to MS, "Mathematical Methods of Physics" and "Fundamentals of Mathematical Physics".
What is my grandma going to do? She was married to him for almost 50 years.
This is a very incoherent post. I'm happy for him and for my mother that the next few weeks aren't going to happen as we'd all thought they would. But sad he's gone and sad for my grandmother in particular.
Just talked to my sister. She just saw him this morning and then drove six hours to get home. She said he said that he expected the morphine to make him feel muddled, but he felt clear as a bell. He told stories of his father for an hour. His nurse said, "Morphine couldn't make him muddled. Not him."
And that's it. That's the essence of who he was. He held himself together.
Through My Glasses, Dorkily
6 years ago