The loss of a loved one

I haven’t written in a while because I wasn’t sure what to say. When someone close to you dies, it seems like all the minutia you’ve been blogging about isn’t nearly as relevant as you thought it was. And there’s something about events like this that kind of put you on a different time-space continuum. You step off the busy highway of everyday life, letting go of work and daily obligations. You cancel appointments and find people to step in the gaps for you. You exit onto your own little side road, meandering through emotions and people you only see at times like this. All the while, life continues at its own pace, but you’re watching it from a distance, tending to loved ones and making arrangements and decisions and hoping that those decisions are the right ones…

A couple of weeks ago, my father-in law passed away. After a teary Friday night phone call, we dropped everything and drove to Maine at dawn on a drizzly Saturday morning. We spent days watching a life come to an end and then attempting to honor that life.

Let me just say that my father-in-law was a great guy. He was jolly and fun and could make you laugh – even if you were just laughing at his reactions to things. He loved trucks and cars. But even more, he loved his kids and his grandkids. He was never so sweet as when he was playing with my kids. I remember when my in-laws came to visit after Baby Girl was born. My mother-in-law and I were shopping for fabric for an upcoming house project and had piled everyone in the car to seek out the finest fabric stores in Richmond. When we arrived at the first store, he immediately offered to stay in the car with my two kids (both under three at the time) and encouraged us to take our time looking around the store. He entertained OBB and kept the baby happy, just so we could have time. It surprised me, but I guess it shouldn’t have. He was great at entertaining little ones.

My most favorite memory of my father-in-law is when he would play with my children’s toes. He had a saying that went along with it – sort of his own version of “This Little Piggy”. As he grabbed each little toe, he would say something that went like this…

Little Pea
Penny Loo
Lucy Whistle
Mary Hustle and…
Old Tom Bumble!

It was sheer joy to watch him play this game, with his gravel-y Maine accent, causing whichever child he was playing with to squeal with delight.

I will miss my father-in-law. I will miss the way he would make fun of me when we ate lobster. The first time I ate lobster with him, I inadvertently sprayed him with lobster juice (no doubt due to my lacking lobster-eating skills) and he never let me forget it. From then on, every time I would dive into a plate featuring my most favorite shellfish, he would playfully shield his face with his forearm, anticipating my folly.

While I only knew him for a couple of years, the most important thing my father-in-law ever did will have an impact long after his time here. His best work was in raising my husband. He raised a wonderful man who is a great father, good friend, loving spouse and all around great guy. And I am comforted knowing that I was able to tell him this in person during those last days. And even though he was largely sedated, I know he heard me. As I stood holding his hand in the ICU, he opened his mouth and pulled up his hands and even blew his ventilator out of his trache several times while I was talking to him, causing the nurse to come in and place it back. He heard me. He knew what I was saying.

And even though he is gone, his legacy will continue…in the son he raised and in the children his son is raising. Even at 3 years old, OBB remembers him. He talks about his Pop and the fact that we have two of Pop’s trucks in the driveway. And while everyone will remember him differently, I will remember him as the man who loved my children and gave me a wonderful husband. And for that I am indebted and grateful.