How I Imagine it Went

A jaunty chapeau for his birthday, April, 2019.

This is how I imagine it went. Ken woke in a comfortable bed under crisp white sheets. The gentle light of early morning encouraged him to open his eyes. He pushed the covers off and stood up. He felt great. He figured someone had been busy while he slept, because they finally removed the catheter that had been bothering him for weeks. He couldn't find his glasses, but he could see all right without them. They'd taken his hearing aid too. The birdsong outside the window was loud enough for him to hear without it. 

 

Birdsong? Window? Where was he? 

“You’re home,” someone said. 

 

Marna put her hand on his shoulder and turned him around. She kissed him and gave him a hug. 

 

"Everyone’s waiting for you."

 

And then Kenneth R. Clarke went with his wife of fifty years to reunite with all the other people who, ever since Marna passed away in 2016, had loomed largest in his mind: his sister Arlie who’d cared for him after his mother died young, his brothers Stan and Gordon, his father Fred.  

 

To us it looked like Ken departed peacefully in his sleep. To Ken, it was the best reunion ever.

Crocs for Christmas, December 2019.

His obituary is in the Kitchener Waterloo Record, which you can see here.

Thanks for reading.

Karen

March 21, 2009
Ken, Marna, Bruce & Jeff Clarke

       

March 21 2009
Ken and Arlie