Vigil's End
The vigil in Florida for my wife and her stepfather, and for her mother, is over.
Last night, on the 15th, my mother-in-law, Julia, left this life. By a strange chance it was her birthday. She was 82 (or 83). The combination of several highly severe conditions that set in nearly all at once finally had their say, and under solicitous therapy center care, she slipped away for her appointment with her Maker, in comfort.
She was a career school teacher, and after retirement she served on the county school board, being elected its chairman at one point.
My wife, Esther, called to tell me right after she was called with the word. Being choked with tears, she couldn't talk to me for long. I'll find out what else is happening later on, in what is now the next day. Unable to sleep I'm staying up late, keeping myself occupied at the computer, alone in the house here in Virginia.
I don't think my wife expects me to be at the funeral, though we haven't talked about it. It's been a long time since I've made a day-long drive, and she has become the one who does all that, and she is way down in Florida.
Plus I was badly traumatized by having to attend the funeral of my father when I was only six, and some of those details have never left, in full color. In the middle part of my life I gradually became less afflicted by the memories, but lately they have found increased occasions to return, and that has not been good. Sometimes I feel as if I have never gotten far from April of 1938.
My wife has lots of relatives in Florida and Georgia, plus her mother and stepfather had many friends, so my wife will have no shortage of highly supportive company. She and her stepfather had been resigned to this and about as ready as it is possible to be, for about two weeks.
I will miss Julia. Due to geography I never saw that much of her, but through my wife's closeness to her I was always aware of her benign presence, wherever she happened to be, and it was always nice to know that she was around.
And the odd thing is that, for me, that means there won't be much difference. In the sense of which I'm speaking, she will continue to be "around," and to nearly the same extent.
Last night, on the 15th, my mother-in-law, Julia, left this life. By a strange chance it was her birthday. She was 82 (or 83). The combination of several highly severe conditions that set in nearly all at once finally had their say, and under solicitous therapy center care, she slipped away for her appointment with her Maker, in comfort.
She was a career school teacher, and after retirement she served on the county school board, being elected its chairman at one point.
My wife, Esther, called to tell me right after she was called with the word. Being choked with tears, she couldn't talk to me for long. I'll find out what else is happening later on, in what is now the next day. Unable to sleep I'm staying up late, keeping myself occupied at the computer, alone in the house here in Virginia.
I don't think my wife expects me to be at the funeral, though we haven't talked about it. It's been a long time since I've made a day-long drive, and she has become the one who does all that, and she is way down in Florida.
Plus I was badly traumatized by having to attend the funeral of my father when I was only six, and some of those details have never left, in full color. In the middle part of my life I gradually became less afflicted by the memories, but lately they have found increased occasions to return, and that has not been good. Sometimes I feel as if I have never gotten far from April of 1938.
My wife has lots of relatives in Florida and Georgia, plus her mother and stepfather had many friends, so my wife will have no shortage of highly supportive company. She and her stepfather had been resigned to this and about as ready as it is possible to be, for about two weeks.
I will miss Julia. Due to geography I never saw that much of her, but through my wife's closeness to her I was always aware of her benign presence, wherever she happened to be, and it was always nice to know that she was around.
And the odd thing is that, for me, that means there won't be much difference. In the sense of which I'm speaking, she will continue to be "around," and to nearly the same extent.
posted by Carl (aka Sofarsogoo) | 3:33 AM
2 Comments:
My sincere condolences, Carl; I am sorry to read of your loss.
I have a special fondness for schoolteachers, so much so that while I never met Julia, I honor her as a member of what may truly be the greatest calling. She will be missed by her community.
My thoughts and prayers are with you and your wife in your time of grief.
- Steve
Thanks, Steve. I feel exactly the same way about schoolteachers, especially when I think of how much more they had to do with showing me the way to the worthwhile things in life than all the sports stars, entertainment stars, tycoons, and others who nevertheless were paid and otherwise rewarded many times more.
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