‘Do you want to see him, love?’ said the nurse.
‘No,’ I replied as ‘he’ had gone. But the others took turns to say their final goodbyes, blowing noses and weeping softly as they left his room.
Later the undertakers arrived, did what they had to do and removed the body. I peeped through the curtains then and the drizzle obscuring the windows and glimpsed the coffin, the overworked windscreen wipers and the lowered heads. I then heard the crunch of gravel as the long black car transported my father’s body away from the home he’d loved.
Afterwards I crept upstairs into his empty room where I spotted his spectacles, open in his Bible at the page he was reading and his glass, three-quarters full of the water he was sipping up until 5 pm yesterday after which time he could drink no more.
This post was written for Sunday Photo Fiction
Flotsam and Jetsam 
Terribly sad tale, very well written. Well done.
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Thanks very much, Iain!
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This is so sensitively written. I felt her pain. Excellent.
Click for my story for children!
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Thanks, Keith. I will do!
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Very painful story, well written, Mary.
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Thanks, Neel – it’s sadly true.. I’ll have a look at your story later 🙂
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Nicely done tale of loss, Maryruth.
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Such a tale of sorrow. Dad was reading the Bible, that’s a good sign, she’ll see him again someday.
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Well written with a lot of feeling in that. Good story
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