In Passing

 Two weeks ago, my father in law collapsed and had just enough power to call 911, not remembering our quick dial number on his land line phone. He never had a cell phone.

Two weeks ago this coming Wednesday, he died. It had given all of his grandchildren and most great-grandchildren, to say goodbye as we sat vigil in his hospice room.

A week ago tomorrow, we buried him. It was family only and just a short reading of some things he'd written. A lot of tears were shed.

My husband, a man I love beyond the bounds of reason, was hit very hard by his father's death. They had the kind of relationship that should be the standard for a father and son. The spoke at least one a day, most often more, even when they were disagreeing with on another. They were very close and enjoyed their weekly trips to the grocery store as doing something together as well as their social outlet. The Saturday following his death was miserable for my husband. 

That's going to last awhile. At least until we get back in the habit of grocery shopping together again. It's been five years, so it's not going to be anytime soon.

The happiest part was going through old photos for the video that played during the visitation at the funeral home. Friends and almost the entire neighborhood came by to say their goodbyes. It was bittersweet because my husband and his sister had so much emotion behind the moment recorded on film, that we digitized almost five years ago. Our nephew found some of the best. He was very close to his grandfather. 

The one thing almost every single person who had known them said was "He's with his sweetheart", meaning my mother in law who died five years ago.

Now, I will get with the honesty most expect from me. My father in law and I did not get along. I was a woman who didn't bend to his will and I never would. Not because he was Pater Familias, but because I thought he was wrong. It started when we announced our engagement and he cursed in Dutch and walked out of the room, but it continued throughout the twenty-two years of our marriage.

I found him to be very wrongminded and didn't mind at all saying I thought so. My mother in law rarely gainsaid him, just to keep the peace. He would refuse to speak to her for weeks if she did so. I continually needled him if he tried that shit with me. I wasn't going to say I was wrong when I knew I was right. I wouldn't let him think he was right when he was so clearly wrong.

When my mother in law died, he ignored all of her wishes for how she wanted her funeral, wanting cremation, etc., and did what he wanted. My resentment, over the years, grew to be almost a living thing when I was around him. I loved my mother in law so much.

His using my husband as a punching bag, emotionally, once his wife was dead, threw that resentment into heights not yet experienced by a human being without a murder or serious bodily injury being done.

Why? Why had I put up with it when I had never had any caution in opposing him before?

Because he was my husband's father and my husband's problem to deal with. Also, the man had dementia. Both of his kids worked hard to get it under control and they did the best they could. Being the way he was had a lot to do with a disease that is not treatable, not curable. It is just endured.

IMHO my husband and his sister are saints for the work they have done for the past five years in caring for their father. They both stepped up and got conservatorship over him to care for his finances and health. My husband set up bill paying and would go over the reports from his portfolio folks to guide that as well. Both of them... BOTH OF THEM... worked tirelessly to make sure their dad got the best care he would allow without a physical fight, including infusion treatments. Neither had any idea how greatly I admire them for their labor of love.

As much as I resented the way the man treated me and sometimes my husband, I loved him because he raised two people who I love very much and I find to be two of the greatest people I know and love. I loved the way he would always say goodbye to me when talking on the phone to my husband. He always had something to say when we were separating groceries after their shopping trips. 

Ever since he retired he wanted to get a pet. My mother in law always said no, and I supported her even though we had a houseful of rescued animals. After she died, he wanted it, but knew he could barely take care of himself much less another living thing. He wanted our dog Apollo to come to him, be the typical dog, but Apollo was always skittish like he is around anyone who isn't us. But my cat, Gimli, loved to strop his ankles and get petted by him. He was always trying to get my husband's Norwegian Forest cat to come to him, but hell, she doesn't even do that for us. We're staff, not companions.

My daughter in law would stop by his house often, when she came over, so she could visit and he always enjoyed the kids. Lord, how that man melted around a baby. My grandchildren adored him as well.

I am sad because I know my husband is mourning the passing of his father. I'm mourning the passing of his father. It shows we both respected the man, for different reasons. I don't have the memories my husband and his sister have. I didn't experience his paternal love, but I got an offshoot of that. I hurt because my husband hurts. I need to be there when it all hits him. So far, for both of us, it's at different times, for different reasons.

We went to the grocery store yesterday, together, for the first time in almost five years. I took him to a different store. It helped both of us and we spoke of their trips together and how much my husband valued that time with his father. I'm glad they had that.