Wednesday was your funeral. So many people attended to pay their respects; I was not one of them… Would it even mean anything to you whether I was there or not? I don’t have any “respects” to pay…

Since the night my Uncle Gordon died, I had lost all respect for you. Several of us were standing in your kitchen, we had just hugged our grandfather, telling him how sorry we were for his loss… Standing over my grandfather’s shoulder you touched his shoulder and casually said,

There is no need to cry. Shit happens!

Those words have been stuck with me ever since.

It was my birthday. I was over at my parents’ place for a little birthday dinner. When my mother brought my sisters home from school, she said, “Tio Manuel had a heart attack this morning, is in ICU and is in critical condition.” I looked at my sisters and smiled. “Don’t laugh…” said my mother, “It is not funny”. I looked at her and said, “I’m not laughing and I know that it’s not funny, but, you know… Shit happens.”

That night my mother received a call from your wife. Your wife asked my mother to call the priest because you were dying and that the priest should meet her at the hospital and pray over your deteriorating body.

You died around nine o’clock that night, on my birthday. Uncle Gordon passed on my mother’s birthday last year and you died on mine… Is this a sign of some sort?

You treated others poorly. You did not care how terrible you made others feel as the cost for your own amusement, it was worth it. But your wife is the one who you treated even worse…

You treated your wife worse than the way you had treated your dogs. You never put in your own contact lenses, your wife did. You’d sit next to the braai, the meat needs turning but you don’t get up and do it yourself… You yell out for your wife to come over from the kitchen where she is preparing food; you call her over to come and turn the meat. For everything you needed and wanted, you called on her and she delivered. She did everything for you.

I don’t feel any sadness or hurt towards your death; your wife feels it more than anyone else could. For her I feel. But for you, I feel nothing, really.

After all, there’s no need to cry… Shit happens!