The days of Bill Gushue: A song of gratitude for my dad
Two years ago today was the last day of my dad’s life.
Bill Gushue died in his home on July 30, 2024. It was not a shock: he was 95, and he had spent his final months in a bed we set up in the living room. I actually thought we were going to lose him when he became ill, in January.
Yesterday, by coincidence, I attended a session on grief and end of life at the Alzheimer Society in St. John’s, and while the subject matter was heavy, I greatly appreciated it. This was part of the First Link program I’ve been taking in, to better help with my mom’s Alzheimer’s. In this case, I found much of what was discussed helpful in reflecting on Dad’s death, and how we continue to grieve it.
We learned how acute grief can lead to complicated grief, and hopefully find a place in integrated grief, defined in this journal article as “the permanent response after adaptation to the loss, in which satisfaction in ongoing life is renewed.”
Even before Dad died, we were collecting photos for his wake. Dad did not want a funeral, and had mixed feelings about a wake, although I told him a few times that this really was for us, not for him. Eventually, during one chat, he smiled and shook his head a little.
Not long after he died, I edited the above video on my phone, using a lot of the family photos. You’ll see Dad in childhood, through his university days and naval career, as a young academic, a friend, a father, a grandfather and a great-grandfather.
We all adored him.
For the soundtrack, I picked a song I loved but I doubt Dad even knew: Days, written and sung by Ray Davies for his band, the Kinks. If Dad was aware of the Kinks, I’d be impressed, though he might have overheard me playing Lola or Superman when I was a teenager.
Days is one of my favourite songs, although I didn’t appreciate it until well after I grew up.
There’s a melancholy lilt to it, yet so much love and lift, too. As Davies said in a Rolling Stone interview (the article is here, but behind a paywall), “It’s a goodbye song, but it’s also an inspirational song. It could also mean a new beginning. I wanted to write a sad song with an optimistic praise to it.”
I had long thought the song was about a romantic relationship that had ended, but it turns out there’s a family foundation to the hurt. Davies was writing about his sister moving away to Australia.
Thank you for the days / Those endless days, those sacred days you gave me
I’m thinking of the days / I won’t forget a single day, believe me
I bless the light / I bless the light that lights on you, believe me
And though you’re gone / You’re with me every single day, believe me
I play the song again today (the video is at the top of the post) with gratitude for my dad. Yes, there’s still grief. But mostly gratitude, and love.
Two years. Hard to believe.