At 37 years old, I had lost all the people I cared about in the world, but the passing of my parents has shown me that I have support…

The door knock arrived at 2am. At 32 years old, I was a graduate student studying anthropology at Roehampton University. I lived by myself in a studio apartment that I rented, and I was currently working on my dissertation. Typically I wouldn’t unlock the door at such a late hour, but there was a sense of importance urging me to do so. The moment I saw it was the police, I realized that someone had passed away.

I was informed that my father’s body had been found by his cleaner in his cottage in Bedfordshire. While I rambled about not being allowed to have pets, my lovable pet rat Mr Cuddles heard the noises and came out to greet me. The officer told me it was not his responsibility to monitor if individuals were following the terms of their rental agreeme

A couple of days later the coroner gave me a call to inform me of the autopsy findings: my 69-year-old father passed away due to a large aneurysm. He had been experiencing some issues for some time – he had diabetes and had also had heart surgery a few years ago. However, he was in good health and employed full-time as an IT consultant. The unexpected loss of his life was a major shock.

My dad was a talented musician who won awards, graduated from Cambridge with a degree in mathematics, and had a lucrative career as a businessman. He also worked as a church organist in his spare time. He lived well and died peacefully: without pain, prolonged illness, or suffering. He completed his tasks, settled into his armchair, and suddenly passed away. I believe he passed away content with achieving all of his life goals. His passing was tragic, yet it was an orderly passing.