#rip pop

[aaalexdo]

[rauko-is-a-free-elf]

Sometimes you survive multiple plane crashes, three sunk ships, car wrecks, and a tractor rolling over on you just to be taken out by an infection in your dialysis line...

[seanshakur]

[blueymoons]

I feel like every time I’ve posted lately it’s been negative.

I’ll stop that soon. I promise.

But today has been a rough day.

It’s my birthday. I’m 37 today. August 5.

But my father in law passed away late last night and my husband and his family are struggling.

Pop was 92, and an incredible man. And he’s made it clear to all of us that he was past being ready to go. He was anxious to be with his brothers and mother and father and all of his loved ones that he’s lost. And he was tired. And I’m near constant pain.

But the relief the family felt at knowing he has been relieved of that pain doesn’t help decrease theirs.

I think that’s normal. Right?

I spent my day today ferrying my sweet mother in law, my brother in law (who had to fly into town) and my husband back and forth between hotels and homes and funeral homes.

I spent today keeping the family on track at the funeral home, planning his memorial service, stretching the insurance money as far as we could and absorbing the verbal sniping of my high strung and high maintenance sister in law.

She’s grieving. She gets a pass.

I didn’t get to spend time with my sons. That’ll come later. And that’s OK. I understand.

But I’m so worn out. I’m so tired.

And I’m so sad that throughout this hellish day, no one in my family has thought to ask how I feel about losing a man I’ve called Pop for eighteen years. No one has wondered if I’m grieving. No one has spared a thought for my feelings and my bereavement.

I adored my father in law.

Pop was one of my favorite people in the world.

He was grumpy and crotchety and so fucking adorable. So so adorable.

He was the first parental figure I ever had who expressed his pride in me and my talents.

He never introduced me to people as his daughter in law. He introduced me as his daughter. I was HIS the day we met and he realized his son was in love with me.

He took my young son, from a prior relationship, into his heart from the moment he met him. And I’ll never forget the joy on his face the day he sat in the courtroom, listening and watching as the judge completed the adoption of my son by my husband. Pop was so proud of my son. He was so proud that my oldest son would carry his last name.

I’ll never forget his face the day we told him we were pregnant with my youngest son. How he smiled and congratulated me. How excited he was when I told him it was a boy. Another boy to carry on his name.

And when my youngest was born, at his bris, Pop was so pleased to hear that we asked for this new baby, the last of his grandchildren, to be given a Hebrew name that honored his older brother who had passed a month earlier.

Pop made such an incredible impact on my life.

He taught me what it felt like to be loved by a dad.

I don’t feel super comfortable expressing my feelings to his children. He was their dad after all. But I needed to express them somewhere. Thank you for being my safe place.

I promise I’ll be happier soon. And I promise I’ll have fics to share as well.

[blatheringblatherskite]

.

[aceasadhd]

Had a dream that my Pop (96M) who died last year negotiated 20 more years on Earth because he fought in WW2

[jonathanking]

[dx8]

im a slut wassup, get me lit