three days

When a family member dies, it seems that we work quickly on the mechanics of getting the material out of the way so that we can focus on the immaterial. 

I found out that my uncle passed away peacefully, sitting in his chair, facing his window which looked out upon I-95 and the sky over the Delaware River.  His body gave out sometime on Sunday or Monday or Tuesday, and was found by an amazing group of friends on Wednesday evening.

When I got to north Philly, we surveyed his small home and then brainstormed about what to do to clean up the fluid stains on the floor and furniture, which some of us didn't realize happens when you die, along with the odor of decomposition.   It's probably the most horrific thing at first, but what's even stranger is how quickly you can get used to it. 

I called a couple of agencies that specialized in sending a haz-mat crew to a scene of death to clean up the toxins immediately.  These agencies specialize in, I believe, ripping-off the bereaved family.  Chuck from A-1 Crime Scene Cleaners (not the real name but pretty close) described to me in great detail what the event of dear uncle's passing while relaxing in his favorite chair had done to the building and how unsafe it was now.  And in order to handle it and make it a safe place to be, we would only need to pay a fee of $2,500.  Minimum.   For a couple of hours' work.   Thanks, Chuck.  And he was the low-price leader.

After some discussion, we brought in an independent freelancer with some experience in the field to rip up the damaged floor pieces, dispose of the contaminated chair, and wash the area with bleach and other chemicals that are apparently formulated to get rid of the stench of death.

Before the cleaner came, we dashed back up to the apartment to take anything of value, not really thinking about the contaminants. I just held my breath and went scavenging.  We must have looked like vultures, and sounded like thieves.  But it wasn't about greed as it was about protecting the family and getting the material out of the way.  As efficiently as possible we threw all his papers and envelopes of dollars and jars of coins we could find into duffel bags to take back to the hotel and sort through.  Dear uncle was always leaving money everywhere and so I looked in every drawer, in the medicine cabinet, under the futon, and in the freezer.  After our ten-minute blitz through the apartment, dancing around the blood-stained floor, we let the cleaner do his work. 

And all I could smell was that stench - on my clothes, in my hair. 

Of course later on, my mother said, "Didn't you have any of that gel to put under your nose?"   as if we just carry it around or something.

After several visits to the apartment over the course of three days, my uncle's belongings had been divided and the place cleaned out.  We each took items that we cared about.   I inherited his radio.  D. and I took a huge bag of pennies to get changed into cash money at a Coinstar (um, that was about $50 in pennies to add to the estate).  We gave bags of clothes to homeless people dumpster diving on the street.  Neighbors were invited to pick up furniture.  Kitchen dishes and stuff were dropped off at a thrift shop to benefit AIDS relief.   Cute baubles and ornaments were wrapped up and given to his friends. 

A man dies and the material evidence of his 60+ year existence is completely scattered within three days. 

Along with being heartbreaking, it's also sobering.  What are so many humans doing with so many possessions, none of which matter after your body gives out?   Quite honestly, it's going to make me look around my home and figure out why I have what I have and what I really need to travel through life.   

I'm not going to brood any longer over these three days.   Instead, I'm going to consider the following my uncle's gift, his legacy:

• Have lots of interesting friends.
• Don't take everything so seriously.
• Do what you like.
• Respect the arts, culture, nature and neighborhood around you.
• Keep only things you need or really really think are special.  Give away the rest.
• Always have beer in your fridge (even if you don't drink beer).
• Don't waste your time on earth cleaning up dust in your home.
• Change your pennies into paper money often.

Comments

[Tom Guarriello]

This has been a touching series of posts, Laurie. Very sensitively, insightfully and humorously written. Best to everyone.

t

[natz]

i repeat...please write a book!!!

[Kristin]

If you do embark on a cleaning spree DO NOT get rid of the snow globe collection. I am so glad you have written about all of this too - amazing to read and so heartfelt.

[blaugra]

Aaak. Sno-globes are stayin'! I'll will them to you Kristin! HA!

Thanks everyone!!! It's been really helpful to have this outlet to process all the emotions. And we do manage to find the humor in everything.

[Kull]

FYI...I feel your pain on the hazmat cleanup. I could not believe how much I had to pay to "Bad Scene Cleaning" (again not really the name) after one of my workers cut two of his fingers up. The worst part is seeing the itemized list and how much they charge for "setup costs" and the markup on dust masks, tyvek suits, etc. If you have the stomach for it, what a great business!

Sorry for your loss, but thanks for writing about it.

[marcia ollinger]

you have a gift, laura....and just maybe the things that have happened in your life have brought out this gift so that you can share and share very well....to help others....isn't that the key?? I enjoy knowing you.