So, my father has died...

I arrived in Krabi, Thailand this past Sunday morning and received a message to contact the Allegheny County Medical Examiner's office. My father, Dr. Virachai Theerakulstit, had been found deceased in his home by the police, after being alerted by some friends of his that he wasn't answering the door.

To say my father and I weren't close is a bit of an understatement. We were estranged for nearly 20 years, only reconnecting a few years ago when it became clear he wasn't in a great place and I went back to Pittsburgh, PA to see if there was anything that could be done. Seeing him again, any wrongs done to both my mother and me were quickly forgiven, as there was little left of the person who had committed them in the frail, quiet, aged man I saw before me.

But growing up, he was, as with most young children, I believe, a presence I yearned to be around. He was strong, charming, assured and aggressive, with skill and talent to back it all up. As one of the top cardio-vascular surgeons in the area, he, no doubt, helped numerous families and individuals, saving and improving countless lives. He was creative and artistically gifted - I remember a beautiful, half-painted sketch on stretched canvas which I kept proudly on display on an easel in my room for years. His friends, neighbors and patients loved him. And so too, did his demons, which he never did quite manage to conquer.

In his final years, he lived with much shame and regret about the things he had lost and squandered after so many years of impressive accomplishment and hard work. He had withdrawn from his remaining family and the world when I encountered him again after our long absence. This was, perhaps, his last valuable lesson he had to teach me; showing me a glimpse of a very familiar and possible future which I am now all too mindful of avoiding.

But in his last years I had heard that he had reached out again to his sister's family, and did have some friends with whom he communicated regularly, such as the kind Myers family who finally found him. I can only hope that he found comfort for himself there, and passed with some semblance of contentment.

I am now using my remaining time in Thailand to plan out how to handle my father's affairs and put him to rest, consulting with relatives and Thai temples on the East Coast for advice, and simply to meditate upon his passing, before returning to the United States.

Rest in peace, Dad. May you now find the tranquility that you long sought in this life.

Picture #44: Two late-night cravings... one pint of ice cream.

Upon arriving home, I found myself in need of both sleep... and chocolate. Preferably in the form of dairy. But the polar bear had other plans...

Got in late from Pittsburgh after extracting myself from an unfortunate bit of last-minute drama, separate from my family issues. Megabus' internet access is spotty, at best, so writing and posting from the road was a bit annoying. Still, internet on a bus - we live in the future. All this to excuse my COMPLETELY cheating at BEDA and backdating this post a few hours ;)

About said family issues, I'm not entirely sure where I left things with my father. We certainly parted on good terms, but whether my reconnecting with him will have a positive effect and get him to start taking care of himself and living life, time will tell.

Picture #40: Swimming upstream

Picture #40:

"Where are you headed?"

"Going back to Pittsburgh to deal with my estranged father who I haven't had any contact with in 20 years."

"Dude, I know how you feel."

"Yeah..."

I'm writing this on the redeye Megabus from New York City to Pittsburgh... a bus from the FUTURE!

I grew up in Pittsburgh and my father still lives there. My father and I haven't spoken in nearly 20 years, since he disowned me. But last year the neighbors contacted me through an old neighbor and family friend, Mrs. Hoburg, saying that my dad had become a shut in. When the police had come to shovel him out during the blizzards of 2010, he refused to come to the door. Not really know what, if anything, I should do, I left a few messages at whatever numbers I had left that worked, but never heard from him.

Fast forward to the beginning of this April; I was contacted by a sergeant in the Pittsburgh Police Department with pretty much the same situation. Except that this time, my father had fallen in a shopping center parking lot, cut his head, but refused to be taken to the hospital. He still refuses to answer his door for any social services assistance, hasn't paid utility bills, etc...

That last one was odd because last I knew, my father, formerly a cardio-thoracic surgeon, was rather well off. I realize there have been several stock market crashes in the last 20 years, but dad was always savvy when it came to holding on to his money, so I'd be shocked if he'd somehow lost it all.

Anyway, the very kind police officer thinks he'd be more likely to answer the door for social services if a friend or family member showed up as well. I couldn't find any information for anyone else, so, hence, my trip to da 'Burgh.

So why am I going? Well, speaking to my mother, she told me that it would be the humane and compassionate thing to go and try to help him - and this is a woman to whom my father was NOT particularly nice. I figure, if she can ignore his trespasses and suggest I reach out to him, I can certainly do the same. Not for him, but just to be a decent human being.

Of course, she's not on a bus reeking of bathroom sanitizer at 3 am...