Forty days ago, my Father-in-law sadly passed away in a sudden and tragic manner amidst this Covid19 disaster.
My Father-in-law was the last grandparent figure my daughter had. Come to think of it, he was the last parent figure both my husband and I had. I know they say it is the natural way for children to bury their parents rather than the other way around. But know what? It doesn't make it less fucking painful.
Losing my father-in-law who was for the past 20 years like a second father to me was the most painful death I've ever experienced I think. Perhaps it's because it's still fresh to our hearts and minds, but I don't think that's what it is. It's the suddenness of it. It's the "he was there yesterday and today he's not". We talked yesterday, he was perfectly healthy, and tomorrow he's ashes.
Life has certainly been cruel many times. We've been told that we are given what we can handle. If that's true, then I wouldn't mind being a little less stronger. Over and over again, we've been tested. Sure, we got back up and stood up again, but it's never bruise-less.
We've been dreaming a lot lately about my Father-in-law. In our dreams, he's happy and shiny, and again happy. It comforts us to have this last image of him rather than the one we had in our last video call. That one I will forever consciously hide in the back of my mind.
Thank you for everything Papa R. I hope our prayers will have helped and accompanied you to that final resting place you so deserve with my late mother-in-law. If you can, please say hi to my father and mother for me. We miss and love you so much already. ❤️❤️