I'd rather not write any more obituaries, but...

[ecosophia]

Well, 2024 is going to go down as a rough year for me. My father died this morning.

John David Greer—that's him on the left—was born in 1938 in Aberdeen, Washington, a fishing and lumber port on the Pacific coast. (You might remember it as Kurt Cobain’s birthplace.)  He had a rough childhood, with physical abuse a constant feature; my grandfather was a bitter old man by the time he was thirty, long story there, and beat his children savagely. Like me, Dad was autistic; unlike me, he didn’t have motor dyskinesia (aka fumblefingered clumsiness, one of the less useful habits of my nervous system) and turned out to be gifted at sports, which I never was. His time playing basketball on high school and junior college teams gave him confidence and some of his favorite memories.

Since he didn’t want to be drafted—older friends of his got blown to bits in the Korean War—he went to college right out of high school and got an education degree, as teaching was an exempt profession in those days. To his lasting regret, he also married my mother, about whom the less said the better; she popped two kids, got him to pay her way through college, and then dumped him like a bag of old clothes and completed the metaphor by taking him to the cleaner in the divorce courts. He recovered after a while, and married my stepmother, Michiko (aka Marian) Fukai, a much nicer person. Despite more than occasional problems—my father was a difficult person at the best of times—they remained married and relatively close until his death. (That's the two of them below on the right.)

He and I were never particularly close. Partly that was because of his job—when he got home from a day at school he was sick of dealing with children, and while I can certainly sympathize, it didn’t make things easy for me. Partly, though, it was because we were far too much alike to get along easily. He managed not to follow in his father’s trajectory, and he never beat me or my sister, though I suspect he had to white-knuckle it at times; we were frankly just as difficult as he was.

During my teen years and twenties we were constantly at each other’s throats. I couldn’t visit him at all without having him pick a fight. It was only decades later that I found out why. His father had wanted to be an architect, convinced himself that he couldn’t hack it, and became a firefighter instead. Dad got sucked into the same drama, wanted to be an architect, convinced himself he couldn’t hack it, and became a schoolteacher instead. I wanted to become a writer. Dad was waiting for me to crumple and make the same kind of choice he and his father did, and all his own self-hatred and pain came boiling up as a result. Then I did the one thing he never expected and succeeded instead, becoming a published author. Once that happened our quarrels stopped cold. Thereafter we got along tolerably well, though it helped that by then we were a few thousand miles apart.

His health was fairly robust, though he did his level best to ruin it with a two pack a day cigarette habit—he stopped about ten years ago, when he started coughing up blood from the emphysema—and a habit of guzzling cheap boxed wine. The medical industry contributed mightily by pushing him into heart surgery he probably didn’t need; the wound got infected with S. aureus, one of many microbes that run riot in US hospitals these days. The infection nearly killed him twice, and though they finally got rid of it with huge doses of toxic antibiotics, he was a huddled shadow of his former self afterwards. He still somehow made it to 86, which is pretty impressive under the circumstances.

As for me—well, I don’t think I really needed a reminder of what the Elizabethans called “mutabilitie,” the temporary and fragile nature of all things human.  It showed up in my inbox this morning anyway, one more reminder that the universe has its own agenda and doesn’t concern itself with ours. Dad being the kind of man he was, by his request, there will be no memorial service and no funeral:  just fading photographs and dim memories, traces of a life no more extraordinary than anyone else’s, which had an impact on a few other people and then was over.

Comments

Condolences

[(Anonymous)]

My condolences to you, JMG. Family is family and (usually for better and for worse) our parents contribute quite a lot to whom we are in this life. I hope your step-mother manages OK (you always seem to speak well of her). Don't be surprised if you find yourself appreciating more things about your departed father as the years roll by; it happened to me after my dad died.

Ron M

[(Anonymous)]

I'm sorry for your losses JMG, all the best to you.

I'm struck about this idea of wanting "no memorial service and no funeral". Being the kind of person I am, I suppose I might have asked the same thing for myself, but then again funerals are about the deceased, but not for the deceased, are they? I think (correct me if I'm wrong) that funerals are common in just about every human culture ever, and they are important, I think, for the living to come to terms with loss, and perhaps to reflect on their own mortality.
Just as an anecdote: my grandfather died during the Covid craze, and there was no funeral at all, he was just swiftly cremated without us even seeing the corpse. As a consequence, my grandmother still wonders about him sometimes, asks where he is, says she just saw him leave for the hospital and never come back... Yes she is very old and somewhat senile now, but I think the point stands.

Anyway, just a thought. I wish you all the best, and to all the relatives.

[ecosophia]

I know. I've got plans in place for a memorial service when I die, for that reason among others -- but that wasn't my dad's way of thinking. I think he'd have left instructions to have his body hauled out with the trash if the laws permitted it. Did I mention that he was a difficult person? ;-)

[slclaire]

Please accept my deepest sympathies. It sounds like your father overcame a very difficult start to his own life; he must have had considerable strength of character to refrain from repeating the worst of his childhood on you and your sister. I think the strength of character that you show you learned in part from him. You're honoring him through the strength of character you have shown in overcoming the difficulties in your own life and in being a mentor to so many of us.

Would you like us to pray for him and/or for you?

[ecosophia]

Thank you. I would appreciate prayers. Dad wasn't a religious person at all -- he acquired a lasting allergy to church from his childhood experiences with Presbyterianism, and the closest to a religious sense he ever mentioned to me was his feeling that there had to be something behind it all, and he felt closer to that in the woods than anywhere else -- but prayers for the dead are supposed to be always acceptable so thank you, and I'd be grateful for your prayers for him as well.

Best

[(Anonymous)]

Peace to John David Greer, and condolences to you JMG. You've had a tough year, will hold you in my thoughts and prayers.

Condolences

[(Anonymous)]

John Michael,

Please accept my condolences. I am sorry for your loss.

Live from the Old Nerang Bora Circle,
Christine Clifford

[scotlyn]

If I may, please accept my blessings to you in your loss, and to your father in his ongoing journey into the mysteries.

A rough year indeed! Be well, stay free!

[(Anonymous)]

I am very sorry to hear this, JMG. A difficult year for you, for certain. I will certainly offer prayers, for your father's comfort and ease in his transition, and for you, if you wish.
All I know about your father is what you have written. But that he was able to break the chain of abusive behavior in spite of having a difficult nature inclines me to respect him very much.
Condolences

Jeff H.

[hwistle]

My condolences in this tide of death, John. My own father and mother passed away a few years back. Regardless of how we relate to our progenitors, their passing always changes us.

Gods speed

Manuel

[jenniferkobernik]

I’m truly sorry for your loss, especially so hard upon the heels of Sara’s passing. My father also died this year, and it hit me harder than expected despite knowing it was coming. Dad marched to the beat of his own drummer and also smoked two packs a day and didn’t want a funeral or memorial service. An ordinary life that impacts a few people before it’s over is all most of us get in the end, it seems. I am glad that your father was able to see you make a success of yourself even if he didn’t follow his own dream. I’ll pray for you both since you’ve indicated that it’s welcome.

Loss

[(Anonymous)]

Dear John:

Please accept my condolences. Losing Sara and your Dad in the same year is terribly tough.

I shall offer my prayers for him.


Cugel

[(Anonymous)]

Please accept my heartfelt condolences, JMG. I'm very sorry for the losses you have experienced this year. I will hold you and your father in my prayers.

KT

[randomactsofkarmasc]

I will add your father to my prayers. (You and Sara have stayed in them.)

Take care.

[ecosophian]

Sorry to hear this, John. You have my condolences. There has been so much death lately.

[(Anonymous)]

My condolences, Mr. Greer.

Ennobled little day

[(Anonymous)]

Deepest sympathy and condolences on the loss of your father. He and you both had very rough roads to travel - and how much of the strife in your teens and twenties was the very common "young ram in spring" head-butting between youngsters and their elders? But you overcame it.

Blessing on him and on your stepmother Michiko, and may the gods give you strength of endure this second loss. My heart goes out to you.

The Grey Badger

[open_space]

I am so sorry to hear this, JMG. Please accept my sincere condolences for you Dad's passing. I can pray for both of you should that be okay and may it be easy on everyone involved.

[linden_matryoshka]

Dear JMG,
Please accept my condolences. May John David Greer RIP. I lost both of my parents in the last 4 years. It was emotionally tough. Please take good care of yourself - many people rely on your wizardry...
May you find inner peace in this turmoil,
Inna

Condolences

[(Anonymous)]

Please accept my condolences, JMG. What a year! Kudos for a lovely write up on your late father. Double kudos to you for your ability to pass through such trying times with so much generosity and grace. I pray that I may do even a quarter as well when it's my turn.

My mother, just a year older than your late father, is eager to pass on, and also wants nothing that would pass for a funeral. Same happened with my late father, over 30 years ago. I wonder if this is much, much more common than we are led to believe.

Family sure is a mixed blessing, isn't it?

You, Sara, and your late father are in my prayers.

OtterGirl

[(Anonymous)]

JMG,
Please accept all of the positive energy I can send you. It is a huge time of change. My very best wishes to you.
Jean

[(Anonymous)]

Memory eternal.

May God grant you and your stepmom peace and comfort, if you're willing, and forgiveness and rest to the departed.

[(Anonymous)]

My condolences, JMG,

I completely agree with Ron M. As someone who also had a rocky relationship with my father, time does soften those memories.

Life is very bittersweet!

I can see where you got your height! And your stepmother looks very sweet - and small!
Is she still alive? If so, is she doing ok?

I am happy to light some incense and say a prayer for you Dad's safe passing on, to the next stage.


Kind Regards, Helen in Oz

[scottyc]

John Michael,

My condolences to you, prayers for you if you accept them, and prayers for your father and Michiko-san.

Sympathies

[(Anonymous)]

My condolences to you JMG, my thoughts and prayers go to you and your family if they are welcome.

Kind regards,

Rob

[(Anonymous)]

I'm sorry to read about your loss. You and your Dad will be in my prayers.

Mr James

[escorcher]

Sincere condolences from me, JMG

It feels like a deathly shadow has swung across my way in the last few weeks and I've been talking my Dad's last days post stroke trying to get our heads round a friend's sudden strike down.

Funnily enough I have just been relistening to Seal's second album which got me through some difficult days back in 1994 and this track made my cry all over again. Here's a prayer for all of us:

Prayer For The Dying
Seal [lyric excerpt]

Crossing that bridge
With lessons I've learned
Playing with fire
And not getting burned

I may not know what you're going through
But time is the space
Between me and you
Life carries on... it goes on

Just say die
And that would be pessimistic
In your mind
We can walk across the water
Please don't cry
It's just a prayer for the dying
I just don't know what's got into me

Been crossin' that bridge
With lessons I've learned
Playing with fire
And not getting burned

I may not know what you're going through
But time is the space
Between me and you

[escorcher]

I have just said a prayer for your father too. Hope his crossover is smooth.