Circle of Life

That day always comes.

Yesterday morning, around 6:30 a.m., my father-in-law died in his sleep. He and my mother-in-law were on vacation in Florida.

By twelve hours later, all three of my MIL's grown children were with her in Daytona Beach. She told them not to come, but they didn't ask permission. They went anyway. She was relieved they did.

I stayed behind to take care of our own children and help them through this. This is the first time a close family member has died; my children loved their grandfather and of course never really thought he'd be gone.

I've been thinking of Bill non-stop since we heard the news. He lived a long and full life. He was such a very good person. Very smart. Very kind. Reliable. Fun!

But right now, my focus is on my children's thoughts and feelings more than my own.

We cancelled all our social commitments yesterday. After we drove my husband to the airport, the four of us just hung out together all day. They spent the day in and out of tears. Sometimes I would look up from what I was doing and there would be a child, just standing there, waiting for a hug. They would spontaneously describe an image of him, or a memory of time spent with him.

Food is important, too. There's a reason some dishes are called "comfort foods." We shopped together for the ingredients for our favorite "comfort meal," and enjoyed it together that night. I think it helped a little. It was better than pizza.

After dinner, the kids didn't scatter as usual. We played Sorry together. It was nice to be happily entertained, still within close proximity to one another. We just all wanted to be in the same room together.

They couldn't bear to be alone at bedtime. So all four of us, and the dog, climbed into our big bed and snuggled together under the down comforter. I don't know if anyone got a really good night's sleep. But it wasn't the sleep that mattered: It was the togetherness.

The kids keep asking to see Grandpa Bill one last time. When he arrives back in Indiana, we'll surely be there to say our good-byes.

But death is often about the living. My husband and his sisters are taking care of their mom. She's a strong, independent woman, but she needs her trusted children to rally around her right now. My children need their mom to help them work through these new feelings.

Bill has already found the One to take care of him. He is without pain and suffering now, free from the body that slowed him down in recent years. The kids imagine him eating ice cream in heaven...

Good bye, Bill. We love you and we'll always remember your beautiful smile and your loving heart.