Eleven years ago today, Monday August 29, 2005, Roy Wilfred “Chic” Johnston checked out, bit the dust, bought the farm, crossed over, passed away, departed, flatlined, kicked the bucket, left the building, went the way of all flesh, etc.  In other words, he died. (Why are there so many euphemisms for death?)

So, what is Ol’ Roy doing today?  Celebrating his death day the way we celebrate birthdays?

He did not go gentle into that good night.  His last months consisted of violence, drooling, diapers, and more violence.  Why couldn’t he have died like Mom?  Her death, several years before Dad’s, was sudden and shocked us.  But Dad?  No shock.  My brother, sisters and I breathed relief when he died.  

It sounds terrible that we wanted Dad to die.  We felt that death was better than seeing Dad tied to a bed to prevent him from assaulting people.  Death was better that seeing Dad drooling and screaming.  Death was better than having to help hold Dad down so the nurses could change his diaper.

How fitting that Dad died the same day as Hurricane Katrina which, like him, did not go gentle into that good night.


About Gary Johnston

I am an imaginary number -- a symbol used to count and measure. As Senior Imaginary Number at Einstein Equations Incorporated, I facilitate the calculation of the impossible.

Posted on August 29, 2016, in Uncategorized and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink. 1 Comment.

  1. Thinking of you today Gary. May your Dad rest in peace. I agree that the shock of a parent’s death is more favourable than months of watching the suffering and pain that goes with illness. We all wish for ourselves that we go quietly into the night.

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