What a heavy title, but I find myself grappling with heavy thoughts now that I'm home after 2 weeks of a deathwatch. My mother-in-law, Ethel Vifginia Curtis Skross, passed quietly away last Friday. She defied all medical predictions and lived 2 weeks longer than anyone thought she could. It gave her children and their spouses lots of time to say goodbye.
She was part of my life for almost 50 years. Now she's gone. There is always a time of disconnect. It's like a bruise, You can ignore the ache for periods, but then you bump into a reminder and the hurt throbs. I can't quite wrap my head around the fact that she won't be sitting in her chair the next time I journey to my sister-in-law's home.
The last 2 weeks have taught me that the act of dying is much like having a baby - each body has its own time frame. My mother-in-law was a strong woman. Her body was reluctant to stop functioning. On the one hand we all wished her peace, but we all were thankful for the extra days to say goodbye. We're left with some good memories of shared times. I like to think that she heard the reminiscing and expressions of love.
Now I'm back to my life here. Thinking about my life. Wondering how well I'm living. Am I using what she taught me? Would she be proud of me?