Richard Woodwell

My 93 year old father, who would still say “I love life,” died on Friday, March 17th. I couldn’t believe he loved life. His frail body had been failing him for many years. Strokes that are too numerous to count, damaging falls that are too numerous to count, he could barely walk and recently switched to a wheelchair after his walker wasn’t helping. He had no cartilage left in his knees, so when he’d get up he was always a severe fall risk. I tried to take care of him as best I could for the past 16 years since my mom died, but, inevitably, his body couldn’t take anymore and they found him, sitting in a chair, without a pulse at around 5 P.M. on Saint Patrick’s Day. The last time I saw him he was literally screaming in pain. He was in the umpteenth physical rehab facility he’d been in after he broke a bone in his neck last month. I’ve never seen him in more pain. Screaming. I wasn’t with him when he died and I’ll live with that until my dying day. The thing I need to do now is give him the proper send off he wanted and rightfully deserved. The problem is I can’t afford it. The total amount for all funeral/church/cemetery comes out to $14,000+. For a man who worked so very hard to provide for his family at his job as Superintendent of the Hicksville Water District for 50+ years, I can’t dishonor what he wanted, which was to be buried with my mom, who passed in 2007. I can’t fail him again in death as I feel I did in life. I literally have no family left alive, so I’m reluctantly doing this to honor a man I got to call my dad for almost 44 years. I love him.