Irony is a Bitch…

I feel as if I have opened Pandora’s Box . I know it is not possible to make things happen just by thinking about them, but I do not particularly believe in coincidence. I do happen to have a scathing appreciation of irony, however, which somehow always manages to be justified…

My Father-In-Law passed away Monday afternoon. Wait, no, “passed away” makes it seem nice and peaceful. He had a massive heart attack and dropped dead at the foot of the stairs in front of my shocked Mother-In-Law. We packed up and raced to her side after dropping off the Kiddo at my parents, trying to hold it together, not knowing what to expect. I did not expect to see him still laying there on his E.R. gurney. I did not expect to be standing over him, head bowed while a minister prayed over his ashen body. I am not a religious person, and I have no real experience with death. I had been unbelievably fortunate to have lived in ignorant bliss regarding the nature of the physical death of a loved one and the business negotiations that unfortunately follow. Luckily, I am a quick study.

I am able to learn from one of the most experienced people I have ever met, my Mother-In-Law. This is the third time she has had to suffer the loss of a husband. She lost her second husband three months after my hubby and I started dating. I only had the chance to meet him once. My first funeral, and I was thrust right at the front of the receiving line, the hundreds of mourners passing by, shaking my hand, quietly saying “I’m so sorry for your loss.” And I didn’t even really know the man. I was there to support my then boyfriend. I’d never seen a man cry as he did. I was too petrified to remember much of anything of that time, 11 long years ago.

This time I am in the thick of things. The phone calls, the arrangements, passing the tissues, accepting the food, and explaining death to a 6-year-old. How do you tell a child that his beloved Grandpa is dead, that he will never hug him again, never hear his deep and joyful laugh, never play cars or go to the beach or spend a birthday with him ever again? Very simply apparently. Children never cease to amaze me. He took it in stride, looked me straight in the eyes and asked to go inside and see his Grandma so he could give her a big hug. Throughout the day he would make comments that bewildered me, such as “It’s okay, I knew he was going to die today,” or “I need to stay with Grandma so she won’t be alone until she finds someone else to marry.” WTF? And he was curious about the actual process, asking where his body was and what happens to it now. It is going to get extremely interesting at the funeral when they start taking about God and Heaven, two concepts we have never discussed with him…

And what does this all have to do with Pandora and her notorious Box? One of the main things I have been researching over the last few weeks is what it’s like being a widow. I’ve been browsing blogs, reading about the grieving process, trying to figure out what happens to assets after death, attempting to understand how children of a certain age handle death. See, my protagonist was to be a young widow with a 5-year-old. I was changing the timeline of my story to a year after her husbands death because I realized I was woefully inept in my abilities to grasp such emotions I had never seen or experienced. Now not only am I getting a front row seat for the show, but a supporting role. Too bad that in both acting and life I always utterly sucked at improve. Instead I usually rely on a precise script to follow telling me exactly what to say, where to stand, and how to feel. Not going to work this time. No need for any more passive research.

But enough about me and my inconsequential thoughts.

We lost an amazing man Monday. He only entered our lives seven short years ago, but he somehow managed to share with us a lifetime of love, kindness, gentle guidance, and wisdom. Our world was a much better place with him in it and I am so grateful we had the honor of knowing him. We will miss him.

3 thoughts on “Irony is a Bitch…

  1. Heather and Ed and Chloe

    I’m very sorry for your loss. A couple of years ago, we lost my grandfather and for the first time, I, too was on the “front line” of how you lose someone. Nothing prepares you for it. Hugs to you and your fam.

    Reply

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