– Thank you for calling.
Says Dad as he hangs up the phone.
– My friend Burl is dead.
He tells me as I make us tea.
Burl was one of my favourite faces down at St Stephen’s. He had a gentle kindness about him. The church Dahlia Garden and Vinyard were his projects of passion. In fact, he had recently made two Dahlia hybrids to celebrate the upcoming 150th Anniversary of St Stephen’s.
At 85, he died in his chair after watching his favourite football team win their match. His daughter found him.
Not a bad way to go.
Still, old people seem so young when I know them. Young souls, I guess.
– I don’t have many friends left.
– I can go anytime.
I dread finding my father dead in his chair. I always check for breathing when I make him tea and find him napping. That said, I hope death comes as easy for him as it did for Burl.
I wonder if The Golden Girls or Murder She Wrote will see him out.