A Bit Morbid, but That's Death for You

It's 10:30 a.m. on Monday, June 7, 2010.  My father died at 3:14 p.m. on Monday, February 4, 2008.  I just returned home from George Washington Medical Center with his remains.  What an odd sensation to be driving in the car with your father's bits and pieces.  He's not there, but he is at the same time.

Why did it take so long to retrieve my father after he died?  My dad donated his body to medical research, a rare and wonderful thing.  To anyone who knew him, this came as no surprise. He was a researcher himself and so is my mother, who will also be donating her body to research.  For those who support research, just be aware that getting closure might take some time because it takes ample time for doctors and researchers to do their work and have the medical students learn anatomy and all that good stuff.  Even still, 2 years, 4 months, and 3 days seems a bit long, if you ask me.

The actual pick up was a bit surreal. It's a gorgeous day here in Washington and the campus was full of kids enjoying the sun and the end of school.  I supposed the day would be darker, blustery even.  But once I found the building, the woman who greeted me and escorted me to the anatomy department couldn't have been nicer.  Sunshine personality all the way. The handoff itself was quite easy.  She handed me a bag with a box in it, I signed a piece of paper, she gave me a photocopy and them she escorted me to the elevator and told me how to get out.  Simple as pie.

What struck me as I waited for the elevator is how right on my dad's decision was.  The hallways at the hospital - at least on this floor - were covered with notices for lectures, research findings, reports and general information about very interesting medical and scientific research.  I couldn't help but say "Way to go, Dad," as I stood and waited. 

One surprise along the way was how heavy the bag and box were.  I had thought it would be lighter, having heard somewhere that our remains are mostly water and so what's really left when they're done is just a few pounds of dust and such. Out of curiousity, I weight the package - 8 pounds.  Shocking, really.  Now the bag and box are safely tucked in a closet until I can arrange for him to be interred at Arlington.  I think the fall will be a nice time for that so hopefully that will work out.

And, if you believe in coincidences, when I arrived home, I did so at the same time as my neighbors - just home from the hospital with their four-day-old baby girl (Piper).  New life and no life meeting in the driveway.  How's that for the cycle of life?