A year ago today I found myself sitting in a hospital waiting for my first husband’s dad to arrive for scheduled surgery.
I had called this man my father-in-law long after his son and I had divorced; long after I remarried. He was my second dad, and I loved him as if we were blood. He taught all the kids how to shoot, let every one of them clomp around in his work boots, and taught them some of the worst ‘dad jokes’ of all time. He was awesome. He was larger than life. He was loved.
“I’m here.” those were the last words I texted him, early on the morning of October 9th 2018. It was just two weeks later and he was gone. I’m grateful for the time I had with him in the hospital and that some of my children were able to visit him. His wife and myself each with a hand. Both of us telling him that we loved him and that it was okay for him to let go.
I’m still struggling with his loss only to have it compounded by the loss of my mother this last July. Her passing was very sudden and I still have yet to fully process everything that came to pass with her hospitalization, diagnosis, and passing. It was just a matter of days between her initial hospitalization and her passing at my home on hospice. “I’m here Momma”; the last words I spoke to her. This weekend I will be taking her ashes to the western slope to be scattered with those of my father who dies when I was 19. I will also be scattering my older brother’s ashes at that time. Richard passed when I was just 20 and he a mere 22. Mom had always wanted to scatter his ashes with Dad’s which I will finally be able to make a reality.
I’m still trying to force myself to go through her personal effects. I can only take in in small increments. My mother was many things. She was an intellegent woman who knew more US president history than any one person should know, had raced stock cars a few times back in the ’60s, and was an Air Force Veteran. My mother and I had a fractured relationship, but I still loved her and I’m devastated that we didn’t get the chance to have more time together.
I know I’m rambling, and this post is disjointed at best, but my heart is heavy and I felt the need to purge some of the built-up emotions.
Jean1145's Blog 
When my brother passed away, I too was immensely grateful that I had been given the opportunity to be with him shortly before. Not to just ‘be there’, but to be there, in that moment with him, fully engaged. All of the hugs for you.
Thanks. I appreciate it. This last year has been a tough one. I’m just trying to put one foot in front of the other; still trying to make sense of it all.