When I found my dad dead from a stroke, sprawled in his living room, I felt relieved. He was 78 when he died, and I was a 58-year-old man. I felt relieved because I would finally get his house and money. And, I wouldn't have to fake love towards him anymore.
When I was growing up as an only child he was an alcoholic. Mom and I suffered his drunken rages regularly.
On my 18th birthday I moved out. Dad still drank and mom suffered even more. I tried to get her to leave him. But, she never had the guts.
When I was in my mid-twenties dad became a better father, helping me out in several ways. It was easier when I was grown. It was too late.
Then mom got cancer. When she was dying dad continued to work the swing shift. Mom was left alone at night. I hired one of mom's friends to stay with her the nights dad worked. It cost me, but it had to be done. And, dad wouldn't do it.
After mom died I only saw dad often enough to stay in his favor to get his house and money.
When I made the arrangements after dad's death I had him cremated in a cardboard casket, and his ashes put in a cardboard box. The was no funeral, memorial service, obit, or death notice. The cheapest method.
After I picked up the ashes and was driving home I knew I couldn't bring that box into my house. It was then that I spotted the huge Burger King sign in the distance. I pulled into Burger King and parked. I went around back to the dumpster. It was unlocked. I scraped off the label on the box that said: Cremated Remains of Derek Foster. I didn't want anyone to find the box and return it to me. I tossed the box into the trash.
Then I went into Burger King and ordered a Whopper and a small coffee.
copyright 2011 David Elsey