Wait. Er. Huh? What? (Insert surprise face emoji…)
Father’s day weekend. This is the weekend we finally laid my dad to rest. I didn’t make this public knowledge at the time of my dad’s death, but he had one final wish: he wanted to donate his body to the University of Michigan Medical School for medical research.
Thankfully, we were able to grant that wish.
My dad was a teacher. Even after years of teaching in both private and public schools and moving on to new roles at the Board of Education, he was always a teacher at heart. He benefited greatly from the gifts of corneal transplants (pretty sure at least 7), which allowed him to be sighted until the day he died. So, when we received notification that he would indeed be studied at the U of M medical school for the 2018-2019 school year, we were honored and happy that we could fulfill his last request.
A few weeks ago, my mom was notified that his remains would be returned to her. She told all of us in her own way and I’m sure we all had different reactions. Although, we probably all felt somewhat the same: we have to say goodbye to Dad. Again.
We had his “burial” on Saturday morning. (Is that what it’s called? He wasn’t actually buried. His ashes were put in a crypt. (* Ick. Another word I don’t like. Makes me think of the crypt keeper. I prefer “vault.” His ashes were put in a tiny little vault. Precious things of value are stored in a vault.) Anyhow, it was just the immediate family and my mom. It was almost comical when the cemetery guy had to open the box my dad was in. I mean, it was a cardboard box. Like from amazon or something. His remains were in a black box inside. He was tearing it open (darn packing tape) and I tried not to laugh. But then. The box was set out. One of us had to inspect the label and confirm it was his remains. My brother-in-law quickly walked up to inspect it, and I swallowed the lump in my throat and choked back my tears.
That was my dad.
I wasn’t prepared for the emotions of my kids. As I tried to hold it together, my oldest came to my side and rested her head on my shoulder, weeping softly. It broke my heart and the tears poured out as I held her. The priest led a short (like 15 minutes short) ceremony, and then they asked if anyone had items they wanted to put inside the VAULT with his remains. My daughters and niece had written letters. My brother-in-law added a golf ball, and a flyer of a place in Virginia my dad had always wanted to visit, but never did. My sister added two corks: Bowers Harbor Winery, and the other from his favorite French cognac. Tears everywhere. That was hard. And, especially hard for me to see my kids crying. He was my dad. But, he was their Papa.
They went to put his remains in, and he didn’t fit. Ha! They had to do some rearranging, and the priest and my brother-in-law started cracking jokes. My dad would’ve loved it. I wasn’t the only one who thought it was super awkward when the guy used a power drill and “bzzzzzdddddd” sealed the granite tomb shut. So strange. And. Ordinary.
Then we headed back to my mom’s house to have pizza and wine, per my dad’s wishes: a family pizza party! So we did. It’s weird having those feelings all brought up again, and remembering my dad, his last days, and the fact he’s gone. For good. But I think we did it right. We did right by him, and we did right by us. We celebrated his life and remembered him for the character that he was. Even after he died, he did a great thing. He kept teaching.
As stated by U of M: “The Importance of Anatomical Donations are essential to medical education and research. Anatomy courses rely on anatomical donations to give students first-hand knowledge of the anatomical structures of the human body. These courses are among the first and most important in the education of physicians, dentists, nurses, physical therapists, and other health professionals. Anatomical donations are also essential to advanced anatomy studies and research...Plaques displayed in each Gross Anatomy laboratory at the University of Michigan Medical School express this gratitude with the following inscription:
When a family entrusts us with one of their most sacred possessions, you have an obligation to keep faith with them by conducting yourself professionally, respectfully and ethically as though they were ever present. The families and the people themselves who donate their bodies to the University of Michigan have given this charitable, irreplaceable gift to you in confidence that you will gain understanding and knowledge of the human body. So embrace this gift with excitement and be eager to use the gift which you will have forever... the gift of knowledge.”
I hope the students learned from my dad, just like all of his other students did. Just as all of his peers, children, and grandchildren did.
It’s not often that you get to say a final goodbye to a loved one twice.
G’bye, dad. You’ve made a permanent mark on our hearts and all who you knew you. Behave. Be good. Love you.
Na zdrowie!
Happy Fathers Day!
** author’s note: I struggled over the title of this post. In the end, I decided to be true to him and what he would’ve wanted.
Dan/Daniel to my mom and his peers.
Danny, to my grandpa and his family.
Papa, to his grandkids.
Dad, to me.