Theresa Lewis

This true story is written with all due respect to those who have ever lost a loved one. It is such a painful ordeal to endure. I know that there are times and places that one should never laugh, but sometimes at the darkest moments in life, the funniest of things can happen and it is hard not to laugh. Even in death, there can be humour. Perhaps when these comical events arise, it is a reminder that sometimes laughter is the best medicine.

Ever since the death of my mother, my father lived with me. It was a real joy having him with my husband and I. We had fun together and over the last ten years of my father’s life, my husband, my father and I grew very close.

I knew from the onset that my father had a very serious heart condition. I was told by his doctor that he could expire at any moment. That was an enormously heavy burden on my shoulders. When I was at work, I worried constantly about my dad. We lived in a townhouse condo with seven other units attached to ours. I prayed that he would remember to turn off the stove after he made his morning oatmeal. I prayed that he would be careful with his cigarettes and not burn the house down.

Over the years, we had two small fires that really scared me. One fire was caused by emptying an ashtray into a garbage can that was full of used tissues. There were precious little flames, but a horrendous amount of thick acrid smoke that choked us. I squelched that one myself, but it certainly raised my anxiety level. The second fire was caused by placing newspapers and magazines on top of a basket that was pushed right into the electric heater in my dad’s room. I just happened to pass by his door and I got a smell of something burning and I saw a little smoke. My heart nearly pounded out of my chest as I rushed in and put out the smouldering papers.

The day before my dad passed away, I heard a very loud crash in the bathroom. My heart jumped into my throat. I raced upstairs and called out to my dad. It took a few moments for him to answer me, but when he did, he said he had just bumped the shower doors, but said that he was fine. I thought he was gone and was relieved to see that he was fine.  He emerged from the bathroom with a smile on his face.

Lots of elderly people have a hard time sleeping at night. My dad was one of those. For the most part, he would stay up all night until around four in the morning and sleep during the bulk of the day. He was never up when I left for work at six-thirty every morning. His usual time to get up was around eleven.

One Friday in early November, I came downstairs to find my father sitting at the dining room table at five in the morning. He looked troubled. I asked him what was wrong and he said he couldn’t sleep. At that time, my husband was in College. There was one subject that he hated and always skipped that class on Friday afternoons. That morning, my dad and I convinced my husband to attend the class from three to five in the afternoon. With that mission accomplished, we bid farewell to my dad and we headed out for the day, me to work and my husband to College.

My husband’s usual routine was to come home for lunch so he could walk our dogs. He would stay home for about an hour then head back for his afternoon classes. While he was in the house, he said that he could hear my father moving around upstairs. My husband had a sandwich and a quick cup of tea then headed back out again.

Fridays were a good day for me because I finished my work day at noon. I think that’s why my husband skipped his Friday afternoon classes; he wanted to drive me home. Since he was going to be coming for me around five-thirty, I decided to stay longer at work and do some odd jobs that needed doing. Once I was done there, I went to my usual restaurant for lunch and waited for my husband to pick me up.

It was a typical November evening; damp and cold, but the air was still. It was stuffy in the restaurant so I went outside for some fresh air. I looked towards the downtown area. When I did, I noticed a very strange florescent green light in the sky. It wasn’t moving. It was oblong and very, very large. Suddenly, I was aware of a tremendous sense of internal peace. It was almost overwhelming. I had not felt like that in many, many years and could not understand why I felt like that when I looked at the green light in the sky. It gave me a lump in my throat.

Sometime later when my husband arrived, I told him about the light. He was able to see it in his rear view mirror. I told him I had been watching it for quite a while and it made me feel so peaceful.

Traffic on the way home was horrendous that night. Normally it took us about forty minutes for the drive home, but that night it took a good two hours. Since I was late getting home, I went immediately into the kitchen and prepared supper. I felt bad thinking that my dad had to wait so long for us to get home. I peeked upstairs and noticed that my dad’s room was dark. I assumed that he was still napping.

Once supper was made and the table was set, I went upstairs to get my dad. I called him gently because I didn’t want to frighten him. When I got no response, I entered the room and nearly tripped over him. He had passed away and had fallen on the floor.  When I realized that my father had passed away, I was devastated. That strange calm that overwhelmed me earlier was now replaced with shock and anguish.

Without getting into too much detail, I ended up calling 911. First, the Paramedics arrived. It was their job to perform CPR until the Medical Examiner arrived. An hour later, the Medical Examiner arrived. While he was doing his thing, my husband and I were asked to wait downstairs. The Medical Examiner team told us they would make arrangements to have my father’s remains taken to the funeral home of my choice. After making the arrangements, the Paramedics and the Medical Examiner left.

My husband and I went upstairs to make sure the undertakers could pass the gurney down the hallway without tripping over anything. I noticed that before everyone left, they had picked my father up off the floor and had placed him in his bed and had covered him up to his chin with the quilt. His head had been propped up on two puffy pillows.

When my father had fallen, he had knocked over a lot of things in his room. There were pills everywhere, an upturned waste paper basket and clothes all over the floor. A chair and his desk had fallen over. It looked like a bomb had gone off. I turned off the television and started tidying up the room.

My father always used an electric blanket on his bed under his quilt. I asked my husband to lean over and unplug it. As I was bending over picking up pills off the floor, I saw my husband lean very heavily on my father’s stomach while he tried to unplug the electric blanket. When he released his pressure on my father’s stomach, my father’s body bounced up quite high. My husband screamed and grabbed my butt which made me scream too. I didn’t know what happened. In an unnaturally shrill voice, my husband said that my father jumped at him and tried to attack him. I had to calm my husband down and remind him that dad was dead and could not have jumped at him. I told him what he had done, but it took a few moments for him to grasp the situation. His eyes were bugged out and flooded with tears of fright.

I know what you are thinking, but it was a hysterically funny moment. It was so funny at the time that it still makes me laugh whenever I think of it. Once we had a clear path for the undertakers, we went back downstairs to wait for the undertakers. Supper was still on the table. My husband picked up my dad’s plate and wrapped it in plastic film and put it in the refrigerator. My husband muttered that Dad could have it later which sent me to laughing again. I reminded him that dad was not going to be coming back for supper. I made us both a cup of tea and just sat down when the undertakers arrived. I managed to control myself while the undertakers were in the house. Once they left, my husband and I sat down to drink our tea. My neighbours had seen the undertakers arrive and leave then they come over to ask what had happened.

I tried to explain to them that my dad had passed away. It was so irreverent, but also so impossible to stop laughing. They thought I had lost my mind. I wanted to explain, but there was nothing I could have said to make matters any better so I decided to let it go and I tried to contain myself.

At precisely midnight, a Policeman arrived. He was huge, at least six feet six inches tall and weighed over three hundred pounds. He was a Frenchman who spoke very good English. He sat down at the dining room table and opened his clipboard and started making notes. He asked me what happened. I did my best to explain. He wanted to see my father even though I had just explained that the undertakers had taken him away.

For some reason, the cop just didn’t get it. He asked me what dad was wearing the last time I saw him. I explained he had his bathrobe and slippers on. He then asked me what happened to him. I explained it all again. The cop asked me every which way from Sunday where the body was. I told him it was somewhere between our house and the funeral home. Every time he asked the question, I had to say I didn’t know the exact location. The cop would then say, “…I see, so the body is missing.” Every time he said that the body was missing, it made me laugh. He asked me when, did my dad go missing. It went on and on until I could no longer control my laughter.

Finally, after more than an hour of ‘grilling’ by the officer, it was established that the body was missing wearing only a bathrobe and slippers on a cold November night. It was as though the officer believed that my poor father was walking to the funeral home in his bathrobe and slippers. That thought made me laugh again.

Usually, when someone calls 911, the police show up first. I asked him why he didn’t come when I called at eight o’clock. He said he couldn’t find a way to get into our area.  He said he kept driving back and forth looking for the path to our door. I told him I was shocked that it took him four hours to find his way. He may have been a policeman, but he was definitely the stupidest man I had ever met in my life.

By the time everyone left us alone, it was after two o’clock in the morning. We were exhausted. We sat there and laughed at all the stupidities of the evening. I know it wasn’t nice, but it was impossible to stop laughing at the whole ordeal. Many years later, I learned that the green light I had seen in the sky that night was from a UFO that had appeared over the downtown area and had lingered for several hours.

I have no idea what the officer’s report said. I was never sure if he had filed his report as a missing person, or a death. Just a mild observation though; I think the officer must have been an alien.

The End