It’s been one week since my father’s death. Lots of time for reflecting on his life, and life in general.
During this short week, we’ve already gotten news that a good friend, a guy in great shape who has been an active surfer into his 60s, has been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. Now seeking a 2nd opinion.
Back to my dad–I thought this letter written just five weeks after he arrived in Honolulu in 1939 is an appropriate bookend for the front part of his life, along with the recently-scanned photo as he crossed the finish line in a high school race, most likely the mile, his specialty.
The letter was sent to a woman, probably an old girlfriend, back in Long Beach. He describes his first impressions of Hawaii. It was found by a friend of ours in a collectible paper sale in Seattle nearly 70 years after it was written. She saw the “Lind” name and sent it to me, not realizing it was written by my father. Small world indeed.
The race photo was part of a September 27 entry, “Something’s happening.” And now we know, yes, something was happening. In retrospect, it was the beginning of his final decline.
Settling his affairs has proved to be less onerous than I imagined. We spent over an hour at the mortuary on the afternoon of the day he died, filling out forms. There’s a bureaucracy of death. A permit is needed to process the body. Details needed to complete the death certificate, which, we’re told, will take 10-15 working days to get back. And that’s what is needed to officially notify his insurers, bank, and other of his passing. Most utilities will not take his name off the account without a certified death certificate. In most cases, a copy won’t do. I had to dig for the right photo to send out with his obituary. My mother insisted on just the right choice.
We’re still struggling with the question of whether to arrange a public memorial gathering of some kind. My mom, also 96, isn’t necessarily prepared for an event like that. But it would be awkward to press ahead without her, or despite her reservations. So we are still bouncing the ideas around, hoping for an agreement to emerge.
And so it goes, a week later.
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“There’s a bureaucracy of death” in Hawai’i state; the most idiotic when it comes to bureaucracy. The State of Hawai’i does not wanna make it easy at all for anyone to do anything here. at any level.
My father died in California. It is totally different there.
When my father passed away, we observed it in the Jewish tradition. Although I’m not at all observant, I appreciated its rhythm. Funeral and burial come very quickly — generally within 24 hours. Then, immediate mourners spend a few days to a week at home welcoming (and being cared for by) visitors but otherwise disengaged from ordinary affairs. Then, you’re obligated to go back to things, but you wear a torn black ribbon for the first month. This reminded me and anyone I met that, while I may look all together, I’m still just a bit crazy and disorientated by it all. The family returns to the cemetery around the one-year anniversary to commemorate the grave stone. (I was told that mourners are not supposed to go back to the grave site until then.) And then the death is recalled annually at its lunar calendar anniversary and around the Jewish New Years.
It all helped me be calm with the passing of a beloved senior that was all in the right order of things, but nonetheless intimately and emotionally moving.
So no need to feel all normal. Still a bit crazy for a month or so. Still mourning on the low burner for a year. And of course, you’ll never forget your dad.
Peace.
Hello Ian,
I’m sad to hear the news, Ian. Thinking of you and your family. I always admired your father, his contributions to surfing, and his interest and passion for water sports; and I appreciated his support for my rowing. I feel very fortunate to have known him, and I am enjoying your writing about his life. Thank you.
My father died a year ago and I went through what you are going through now. I was not able to have a long goodbye like you did. Somehow, your sharing your last days with your dad brought me comfort, and in some ways allowed me to have a long goodbye with my dad. I hope they’re up there now talking about us and how good Hawaii was in the old days. Take care. From one son to another. Aloha.