Inheritance

So, most of you know that my dad passed a couple weeks ago. That's a hard thing. He had been sick, gone through chemo and then was better. Then my aunt shows up at the HR farm to let me know that I needed to go to UCSF that minute, that my dad got sepsis and wasn't expected to make it through the night.

In this twisted modern world, relationships between parents and children get complicated quickly. My relationship with my father was no exception to that rule. Still, my father loved me to the best of his ability and he loved me more than he loved anyone else. That counts for something and then some.

So, after the death, is the work. I spent most of my days last week in his cramped, San Francisco apartment, filling trash bag after trash bag with a lifetime of waste. Two year old tv guides, old vhs tapes, newspapers. This weekend is more of the same. My family and friends have been very helpful. Muffins and spare hands arrive like magic.

It's also been a crash course in making funeral arrangements. I don't care how many seasons of Six Feet Under you have under your belt, it still catches you off guard. And, of course, the cost is off the charts. And, I wanted to pick out a charity for the whole 'in lieu of flowers' thing. Since my aunt called into question the legitimacy of 'The Rachel Maui Fund', I was forced to go with Meals on Wheels.

So, now I am in my living room, newly cluttered with boxes of dvds, audio-visual equipment, books, and the like. Going through his wallet was hard. Something so intimate about that. This object, attached to him daily, filled with random cards, a picture of me, $17. I took the cash and bought a bottle of wine. I know it's not wise to blow through your inheritance in one day like that, but I'm a rebel. I opened the bottle on Saturday, surrounded by his family and friends. I toasted him in silence.