A Gift of Love

 “Did you ever cuss Uncle out for dying”?

As I stood in the parking lot of church after the funeral of My Favourite Father In Law (full disclosure, my only Father In Law) I smiled at my nieces question. 

“Yah”, I replied “a lot over the years. But, not so much now”. I’m glad she asked the question, felt comfortable asking the question. No matter how old we get, there are still things we are curious about. And funerals often bring up curious questions.

For me, my day held no questions. The funeral of this good man - a man I’d known for over half my life- was bittersweet. His passing was what he wanted. Both his body and mind were failing him and the life he had lived- a simple life that was full of moments both hard and beautiful- was fading. He had lost My Favourite Mother In Law five years ago and his first born child - My Favourite Husband- a year after that. He had two other wonderful children and grandchildren but as people he loved started passing his world narrowed. No longer able to drive and requiring care took away much of his independence and when he fell ill and his mind drifted too, a peaceful passing was the relief he sought. 

I felt the presence of MFH throughout my day. In the church during the service. At the cemetery especially. MFH’s parents are buried just behind him and as MFFIL was laid to rest I softly stroked the headstone of MFH. Rough light grey granite, cool to my touch at the top of the stone. Wordless. Touching it felt so good. Knowing his spirit was there too as we laid his Dad to rest. There was a breeze that ruffled the leaves on the trees - voices  of welcome. A sun that warmly enveloped us for our short gravesite visit. 

And after, at the lunch back at the church. I visited with family members from both his Mom and Dad’s side. Warm welcomes from people who I’ve known half my life. I see them rarely but our catch up chats were spirited and full of remembrance. Memories recalled of both MFH and MFFIL when these cousins were younger. I love that they were shared with me. I love how I was still embraced as family even though my link to them has been broken. 

That’s the gift. More precious than any material thing, I’ve been gifted the warm embraces and acceptance into a family that still claims me as one of theirs. A Sister In Law and her girls- smart, witty beautiful young women, just like their Mom - women who I’m deeply connected to. A Brother In Law and his family.  All of these cousins who smile when they see me and share their lives. The few Aunty and Uncles that are left that know me as both part of a couple and on my own. The love. Yes, I felt him at the lunch with every smile, every hug. I felt him smile. I felt his love and I sent that love right back to him. 

So when the question was asked - and my answer given- I still thought about it on the drive home. I thought about how I cussed him out when I had to figure the furnace out. When I had to change out the thermostat in the garage. I cussed him out for dying and leaving me alone because our deal was that I would die first. But almost four years in, I’m no longer angry. I can and have figured out things (and hired people to do what I can’t). I’ve built a life rich in experiences and relationships. There’s no longer a need to look skyward and mutter “are you fucking kidding me right now- thanks a lot for dying…I can’t do this shit on my own”….mostly because it’s not true.

Much like the gift of a family that embraces me, he’s left me the gift of knowing that I can and I will…..