Reset

He was demanding in the amount of love, attention, and respect he needed from his family, mostly, it seemed, from his son -- my husband -- as wannabe dad could never call him enough, see him enough, take him to lunch enough, or even think of his father enough.

And yet, in the last three months of his illness, his middle son lead the charge in scheduling round the clock presence of family in the first month, visited him no less than twice daily, played his favorite music, conferred with the doctors and nurses about outcomes and ifs and chances, and weighed options of nursing homes, while coming home in time to bathe LR and read him story after story until the baby's eyes were as heavy as his own.

His father knows now, as he sees his "hijo ingrato" from his heavenly abode, of the love that his second son had for him. He oftentimes did not deserve the respect he craved, but in all of the planning and decision-making that went on, each and every decision was made out of respect and based on "what he would have wanted." *

It will take time for wannabe dad to feel ok, not just from the grief of his dad's death, but from the should haves. Should he have called/saw/lunched/thought of his dad more? Of course. And even if he did all those things, he could always do more. There's always more. It would have never been enough.

So we go through it again, we reset our emotions and crank up the tears, and make the arrangements that were once so unthinkable, then we start the healing process. I don't know what it's like to lose a parent, but I do know what grief does to a person. It's no walk in the park.

My dear husband, please take the time to grieve this loss, and I will be here to help you through.

(*if it's not obvious, there was no advance directive in place, no funeral pre-planning, and no estate planning done by my father in law, which made it triply difficult to determine what he wanted and at the same time weigh all of the input from his wife, her kids, and my brothers in law. Lesson.)