It’s strange to me how quickly life has moved on after my father-in-law’s passing. Not a day has gone by that I personally have not thought about him and I know that is true for my husband as well. It was his dad who died and for that reason I have been more reserved in my expression so as not to turn this into an experience where he is the one who is comforting me when I would much rather be the one who is comforting him.

I guess I expected more tears, more conversations about grief, more reflecting on the days of his presence. I was almost 40 before I ever lost a grandparent, so I didn’t know how my kids, being much younger, would take this loss especially with someone who was so much a part of our lives. But they all overall seem to be doing well. People do say that everyone grieves differently and that there isn’t a right or a wrong way to grieve.

I’ve thought about this more in the days of my son being home. Both this time and last time, it’s different for me when he’s here. There was grief I went through over my son, not in the sense of losing him as part of life on this earth, but in, as they say, letting him go. There was grief over what had already been lost even before any tears began coming. When I see him there’s this sense that the process worked, that I’m at peace.