I’ve been to the coast only once in the last year and it was just recently. I don’t think I would have gone except that my Mother-in-law got the kids excited about playing in the sand. So, we packed up and headed West. The weather was as good as it ever is at the coast in late winter. I think the kids had a good time. I didn’t want the water to touch me. In fact, when Bigweld fell, my reaction to reach in and pull him out seemed somewhat delayed.
I haven’t been to the cemetery at all this year. It just seems so final (you would think his absence over the last year would be pretty final). I can’t live for a minute in denial if I go out there.
Last night I sat here re-reading the news and police reports about the accident. I still feel anger when I see his name in print. It feels like our privacy is being overly invaded again. The mention of his name seems so intimate.
My heart aches for my mother-in-law. My heart aches for my husband. My heart aches for our children. My heart just aches…every single day.
Some days, I feel like time has allowed for a scab to form over the pain of his death; and others, the scab is ripped off and we’re gushing blood.
To say we miss my father-in-law is an understatement. To say “we’re OK” is a lie.
Bigweld is starting to dress himself. He really enjoys choosing his own clothes. Yesterday he chose a green t-shirt with a pocket “like Gampa’s”. Herbie is a little guy of few words and an easy going personality until it’s a matter worth fighting for…just like Grandpa. Violet is still trying to process the whole thing. She wants to know if Grandpa would have come to school, had lunch with her, and watched her play on the “blue zapper”.
I see a lot of my father-in-law in The Pilot: His walk; His tone when he corrects the boys; His gentleness with Violet.
When I think of my father-in-law, I am reminded of is unwavering faith in God, his delight in the occasional hazelnut latte, his hand in S’s, his face the first time he met his grand-babies, his willingness to “work” in the barn with me, and the pride he felt for his son.
As I sit here covered in tears, I know his “home is on God’s celestial shore…where joys shall never end.” (I’ll fly away)
