The
other day a friend of mine was confused when I mentioned that my
father-in-law had just gone on hospice care & was not expected to
live more than a few days. "But, you're not married!" That's true--and
the married Shari seems like another person, another lifetime--but the
people who became my family even before the wedding never ceased to be
my family. That friend thought it was sweet that I am still close with my in-laws, but to me it just seems natural.
I met my father-in-law when I was 18 years old, and he was scary at
first. He used to make fun of me because I was going to college. He
would call me a "college puke" and tell me that now I would be
"trainable." But on my graduation day, no one was prouder or more
excited than he was, not even my biological parents. He kept the
graduation program on his end table for years after that day, and when
people would come to visit he would take it out & point to my name
and brag about me.
He was always there for me. He rescued me
when my car broke down. He fixed anything and everything that broke
around the house. I could call him whenever I needed help & he
always took care of me. As much as he made fun of me for my "book
learning," he would ask me for my opinions or to help him research
something. When his son decided to end our marriage, Pops said, "I don't
know what's wrong with him."
My in-laws moved to Myrtle Beach,
and I took an internship in nearby Florence, SC so I could see them on
weekends. They put me up every weekend, fed me, bought me stuff, and
loved me like their own. They'd always done so, and even when I was no
longer legally related to them, it didn't matter. As I packed my car to
leave after my internship, Pops stood in the driveway and started to
cry, saying, "I just know you'll never come here again." That made me
cry. That was 1999.
In 2010, when his dementia was starting to
progress, I made a trip from AZ to SC so I could visit him while he
still knew me. He was, as always, thrilled to see me. And the feeling
was mutual. I am so glad I made that trip.
Today, Pops died
peacefully in his bed at home with his (biological) children and his
wife at his side. I wish I could have been there, too, but I take
comfort in knowing that he remembered me until the end and was always
excited to talk to me on the phone. The last time I talked to him was
just a couple of weeks ago. As soon as he heard my voice, it was the
same old excitement and he told me he loved me. One of his favorite
possessions was the doormat I got him that said, "One Nice Person and
One Old Grouch Live Here." He kept it in front of his recliner. He
really was an old grouch to a lot of the world. But I knew different.
My heart is very heavy, but I know he went in peace & that his
suffering is over. I am so grateful to have had him as my Pops for over 3
decades. Books have taught me a lot, but the love of good people has
done more for me than anything else. I wish him a good journey.
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