The Sense of an Ending

It took some getting used to in the beginning but it’s my father-in-law’s way of greeting women he cares about. He “pecks” directly on the lips.  Men get strong German handshakes (even his boys). That’s about the extent of his touchy feely displays of affection. He’s not a hugger.

He’s only said, “I love you.” to me three times in the 24 years I’ve been married to his son. It’s never been necessary. I know how he feels about me. He reserves the expression, I recognize, for his children and grand children. It doesn’t hurt me. That’s more important anyway.

I do remember each and every time he’s said it, nevertheless.

(He said, “I love you.” at the memorial service after Nan died, his wife of 50 years and my husband’s mother, almost nine years ago.)

Once Nan passed away, the family “glue” dissipated. Someone needed to step up, hold things together and no one did for far too long. The family dynamics changed. Things happened. Relationships unraveled as they wont to do when they're not tended to carefully.

Families are complicated creatures, aren’t they?

(He said, “I love you.” eight years ago.)

It followed a heart breaking conversation in which I told him something he needed to know after his quickly timed re-marriage. I will never completely understand why it was placed in my hands but it was. Maybe they were afraid to hurt his feelings. I did it and it was hard as hell.

(He said, “I love you.” this last Saturday.)

You see, he’s sick.

I’ve purposely stayed away for my own reasons and haven’t seen him since Thanksgiving. And as difficult as it is to admit, I recently had my husband drop me off at Costco while he stopped by. My husband understands my reasons. I felt like crap.

So I didn’t tell my husband I intended to surprise his dad last weekend. Maybe I didn’t want to tell him in advance in case I didn’t follow through or maybe I didn’t want to hear him say, “Honey, you’re doing the right thing. Good job.” I don’t need that. I already felt guilty enough.

I let my father-in-law tell him the following day. My husband gave me a simple, knowing smile after he hung up the telephone. I knew I made him happy.

I’m thankful I went. I’m grateful to have shared a few quiet moments with him all by myself. I love him more now than I ever have despite everything that’s transpired over a quarter century.

And before I left, my father-in-law hugged me longer and hard than he ever has. He told me he missed me and he uttered those three words for only the third time ever but the timing was perfect.

I sense an ending and it makes me intensely sad but I have those words tucked safely away.

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The Sense of an Ending is the title of a wonderful book I read recently and it has inspired me to think about things a little differently. Hence, I used it for my title.

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