My dad died last week, quite peacefully, after a long period of Alzheimer’s. We had had time to prepare (‘anticipatory grief’, the social worker accurately diagnosed), and close family were all able to spend time with him in hospital. But of course it is never easy.
I wrote about him here/on LinkedIn, four years ago, when his memory was already bad, but at a time when he would not have been happy to acknowledge or have me say he had dementia – still, it was a sort of tribute. It also struck me how much we had in common, in ways I had rather conveniently not focused on, happy in my uniqueness 🙂
He studied at North London Polytechnic, then trained as a teacher at Crown Woods Comp in South London – where he met my mum. They moved to Glossop in the Peak District by happenstance, discovering more affordable housing there, and I was born the same year, my brother Joe two years later.
He went on to have a great career, becoming a head teacher (notably at South Manchester High School), and even a ‘super head’, passionate about education (and trad jazz, music in general, and literature), speaking out for his beliefs, with real passion. But also a wry humour. His last tweet was a reply to my brother, who had expressed mild surprise that cucumbers were so firm and crisp despite being 95% water. ‘Well, you’re about 70% water, and you seem to be doing OK’.
He met his second wife after separating from my mum, and had happy years in Manchester, before she was taken away from him by dementia. Lockdown certainly coincided with his deterioration, but we were all blessed that he became quite calm and content even as he drifted away.
Anyway, no neat LinkedIn ‘moral of the story’, you can draw the obvious conclusions – life is short, spend time with people you love, make sure you really live.
One of his favourite writers was John Updike, who wrote an incredibly moving short story which is a simple, clinical narrative of a man’s life from birth to death. It’s not easy for me to keep in mind that we are all on that journey – avoidance was a superpower he passed to me in perhaps a weaker form – but I am starting to get it.
Here are the funeral details etc in case you knew him or know someone who did.
https://docs.google.com/document/d/1NxRHHRXbU2c-BozB5ytflV5wKV-nmjK8l3_k7yMOtaw/edit?tab=t.0
chosen path 
I am sorry to hear about your loss, and thank you for sharing his story. Beautiful words!
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