The news came a couple months back. Not to me of course, so I can't say if it was a phone call or an official letter of some sort. In its way, why it came was totally typical. It's reception by all concerned was not unexpected, based on years of history. Or should I say lack thereof.
There was a death in the family. Somebody in a local social services department spent some effort tracking down a relative , not so much to relay the news I suspect, but to find somebody to bear burial costs. The reply was, "No." People got notified as needed. Life apparently goes on.
I happen to know most of those concerned. The deceased wasn't a kind individual, didn't nurture his families (two that I'm aware of), and as soon as possible cut contact with all of them. He loved to smoke in the house despite repeated requests to take it outside for the children's sakes, because "he paid for the house." He loved his beer, and in the time I had contact with his family, any drug he could find a way to obtain without getting in trouble for it. He skipped one parent's funeral, causing him to be disinherited by the other one. He lied frequently, often hurting others in the process, particularly including the children in his second family.
There are many blank years, years of no news of him from any family members I knew. I did know one thing, that a distant relative left him a tidy inheritance of $1.2 million. You'd think most people could manage to live a comfortable life on that in addition to regular employment (or I suppose it was, but who really knows?) and in their final days have a little something to cover burial expenses. Perhaps just a cremation. From the request that one family member received, I'm presuming his remains will be in the pauper's section of whatever cemetery performs that service near where he died. At least they knew his name so it should have a marker, or at least a record of which space covers him. Should anyone inquire.
I'd be very surprised if flowers ever were placed on it. From what I know of his two families, he didn't leave amicably, and didn't live compassionately. I doubt he knew true joy, unless he took drugs to provide something he thought was a substitution. From one family member I spoke to, the reaction was more relief that that particular part of their life could be deemed over, done, taken care of. No longer was there reason to be angry, no longer a surprise visit to be dreaded - though we both knew how unlikely that might be... except perhaps to ask for money.
I'm trying to find some sadness in me at his passing. It's not there, just that little niggle of a thought that I ought to, like I'd mourn any stranger, born of empathy and compassion because I try to be a human with those values. I find instead that for me it's just one less unpleasant thing in the world to think about. I hope his families, if they still think of themselves that way, can find that same closure. No hate, no revenge fantasies, just turning of their backs, taking a deep breath, straightening their posture and walking away without any of that burden clinging to them again. It would be his last, if unintended, gift to all of them.
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