Short Story: "RezRec"
My father passed away on Tuesday, the funeral was on Friday, and the Copy was delivered on Sunday. The video on the site gave multiple options for delivery dates, but Sunday was the earliest possible. They had spent months sculpting the template into what I knew as my dad.
When we first presented the idea to him he seemed skeptical that it would work, and was worried that it would work.
“Will it be just like me?,” he asked.
“It’s not like you, it is you,” said the consultation program on the web site.
The videos of the copies offered as samples of their stellar work were indistinguishable from the originals. It could just be special-effects trickery, but al of the major consumer watchdog organizations and government regulators gave RezRec their highest marks. We even had friends who had received a copy of their deceased dogs, cats, and even a horse and they seemed beyond satisfied. My grandmother was the first in the family to take the leap with a copy of her beloved cocker-spaniel, Sammy, who is identical down to the last detail.
After the research, dad agreed to the procedure. It had been a month since he stopped treatment for the disease that was in the process of wearing him down. It wasn’t easy to get him to the clinic; the pain medicine he was on made him constantly nauseous, but he seemed relieved on some level to be visiting a professional, especially someone who offered a chance to keep living.
Mom held his left hand and I held his right as the Neuro-Cap mapped his brain and stored the files in the whirring and buzzing computer that filled the central area of the office. He said he felt nothing from the process and he continued to tell us stories from his childhood.
*
We kept him comfortable for the next two months. Comfortable is not really the right word. There was nothing comfortable about his pain. Maybe “less excruciating” should be the goal because with all of the magic of neurology and medicine today, dying is still painful. But through all of it, he somehow kept cheerful. He continued to entertain us with old memories and anecdotes, but he also loved to just listen to our thoughts.
About a month an a half after the clinic, he lost the ability to speak. The cancer was expanding rapidly and crowding out his normal functions. He was in more pain but still calm and peaceful.
He passed away about two weeks later. We knew the condition was worsening so we contacted his family and my mom’s family. They all arrived in time. We gathered around his bed and he passed away peacefully, holding my hand. I don’t remember much immediately after that.
*
We broke the news about the Copy to the family as we gathered at the funeral home to make arrangements. Most were shocked. My uncle Jeff was clearly offended and disgusted even.
“It’s against God’s will,” he said.
He wasn’t a preacher, but he sure acted like one. I asked the family to vote.
“All those in favor of keeping him dead forever, raise your hands.”
Jeff and his wife Wanda shot their arms up, but looked around and found they were on the losing side.
*
I had never been to a funeral quite like this one. First, I had never lost a parent, but never had I attended the funeral of someone scheduled to return. Most services gave the whole they still live on in heaven etc., but it was strange to know the deceased had a delivery date; even a tracking number. It was still sad because I had a small voice knocking around my mind whispering that an impostor was coming. It may have all of Dad’s memories, emotions, looks, and instincts but it was not the person I loved and said goodbye to those last days. It wouldn’t know its own death. My reason told me that it is dad, just like he was the day he left RezRec after the copying, but cured of cancer, a fork in the road of his existence, and a new road taken.
When we first presented the idea to him he seemed skeptical that it would work, and was worried that it would work.
“Will it be just like me?,” he asked.
“It’s not like you, it is you,” said the consultation program on the web site.
The videos of the copies offered as samples of their stellar work were indistinguishable from the originals. It could just be special-effects trickery, but al of the major consumer watchdog organizations and government regulators gave RezRec their highest marks. We even had friends who had received a copy of their deceased dogs, cats, and even a horse and they seemed beyond satisfied. My grandmother was the first in the family to take the leap with a copy of her beloved cocker-spaniel, Sammy, who is identical down to the last detail.
After the research, dad agreed to the procedure. It had been a month since he stopped treatment for the disease that was in the process of wearing him down. It wasn’t easy to get him to the clinic; the pain medicine he was on made him constantly nauseous, but he seemed relieved on some level to be visiting a professional, especially someone who offered a chance to keep living.
Mom held his left hand and I held his right as the Neuro-Cap mapped his brain and stored the files in the whirring and buzzing computer that filled the central area of the office. He said he felt nothing from the process and he continued to tell us stories from his childhood.
*
We kept him comfortable for the next two months. Comfortable is not really the right word. There was nothing comfortable about his pain. Maybe “less excruciating” should be the goal because with all of the magic of neurology and medicine today, dying is still painful. But through all of it, he somehow kept cheerful. He continued to entertain us with old memories and anecdotes, but he also loved to just listen to our thoughts.
About a month an a half after the clinic, he lost the ability to speak. The cancer was expanding rapidly and crowding out his normal functions. He was in more pain but still calm and peaceful.
He passed away about two weeks later. We knew the condition was worsening so we contacted his family and my mom’s family. They all arrived in time. We gathered around his bed and he passed away peacefully, holding my hand. I don’t remember much immediately after that.
*
We broke the news about the Copy to the family as we gathered at the funeral home to make arrangements. Most were shocked. My uncle Jeff was clearly offended and disgusted even.
“It’s against God’s will,” he said.
He wasn’t a preacher, but he sure acted like one. I asked the family to vote.
“All those in favor of keeping him dead forever, raise your hands.”
Jeff and his wife Wanda shot their arms up, but looked around and found they were on the losing side.
*
I had never been to a funeral quite like this one. First, I had never lost a parent, but never had I attended the funeral of someone scheduled to return. Most services gave the whole they still live on in heaven etc., but it was strange to know the deceased had a delivery date; even a tracking number. It was still sad because I had a small voice knocking around my mind whispering that an impostor was coming. It may have all of Dad’s memories, emotions, looks, and instincts but it was not the person I loved and said goodbye to those last days. It wouldn’t know its own death. My reason told me that it is dad, just like he was the day he left RezRec after the copying, but cured of cancer, a fork in the road of his existence, and a new road taken.