It’s the year 2044 and we are also still waiting for The Second Coming here in South Africa, Cape Town. My name is Susan Smith. I am a 107-year-old widow and my husband passed on 53 years ago. Including the extended family and me, there are only 26 members in our family that are still alive and guess what? We are all females – alas!

Recently, from 29 January 2044 to 28 February 2044, we had our 60th family reunion here in Cape Town with a 100% attendance rate. We engaged in a myriad of activities, however, there is this one particular session that I would like to share with the world. We all sat and formed a circle around a well-lit fire in an open space in our yard. We unanimously decided to disclose what actually happened to our male companions. These were some of the stories:

My mother

“My father died suddenly from coronary heart disease. I spoke to him on the day of his death, a lovely conversation about him buying a new house and how he would help me. That evening, I got a phone call from my mum saying that dad had collapsed after leaving the pub and an ambulance crew were trying to resuscitate him. I prayed for a miracle. When I arrived with my husband and three brothers, I saw my father on the pavement with a blanket over his body and was told by a police officer that he had died. The pain was unbearable and I remember crying while holding my dad. My husband, who never cries, was crying uncontrollably, as were my three brothers.

It felt like part of me died that night also. I remember banging on the ambulance door, demanding to know what had happened to my father and why they couldn’t save him. They said they did all they could but despite their best efforts, they couldn’t save him. It was so cold that night but I sat with my dad until the private ambulance came. I couldn’t bear to leave him in the cold. The days following were the darkest and bleakest I have ever known. The pain was unbearable, as if someone had taken out my heart and was stamping all over it.

“I remember taking my daughter to school late and the teacher asking me why we were so late. I explained that my father had just died and then broke down in floods of tears and was comforted by the teacher. I felt my emotions were out of control and did not know how I was going to cope. Registering the death was the hardest thing I have ever done. I waited in the cafe across the road and it was obvious I was registering a death as my face was red from the amount of crying I was doing.

“The funeral was beautiful and I managed to read out poems about my dad. My friend told me afterwards that she did not know how I did it and that it was one of the most beautiful things she had heard. The church was packed and it was comforting to know how well-respected and admired he was. It is very early days and I am taking things one day at a time. I know life will never be the same and the pain at times is suffocating, but I hope with time I can live with it.”

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