One year has passed since he has been gone.  A year flew by and no matter what you do time doesn’t seem to slow down even a bit. There were lots of tears and grieving when it happened but then along with the time, life seems to have moved on too.  How can you move on after losing someone who was so integral to your family web? It is ironical that along with time life continues its course too.  When he was sick, we tried our best to hold on to him, and then in death we are trying our best to let go.  To me he was my father in-law, a man I respected for his intellect and calm demeanor for the last 25 years I have been married to his son.  But as cultural norms dictated, I kept my distance and even though there was love and affection it was covert. He loved every single thing I cooked and would praise me profusely, so much that sometimes I wondered if he was really praising me or just being polite.  But his requests for leftovers the next day proved my skepticism wrong every single time. He was the proudest when I was working on my doctorate, and his last words to me remain that I would finish my doctoral degree without a doubt. Even in his most confused state when he was terribly ill in the hospital, he was lucid enough to tell me that he was proud of me. His illness did change our relationship dramatically, as I suddenly went from being the daughter in-law to caregiver and the formal relationship gave way to a more casual and loving relationship.  His dependency on me and his acceptance of me as his caregiver was endearing and for a man of few words he even verbalized his attachment for me.  It is poignant to think that it was his illness that changed our relationship for the better and brought us close.

Life is intriguing and mysterious for sure.  We take our health for granted for most part and want to live a healthy life and then we pray that we don’t suffer and want a painless death.  So many expectations from life and we don’t even spare death its due.  My father in-law was a prime example of these expectations as he lived to be a healthy 84 years of age and then fell sick and was gone in six months after that.  Just like that. It is unfathomable to think that a man who hiked up Exit Glacier in Kenai Fjords National Forest, Alaska one year could not even turn in bed by himself the next or a man who learned to use chopsticks like a pro at 80 years of age could not even pick up a spoon in the end.  “He didn’t suffer too long or too much” and “he was free of the suffering” were common statements I heard upon his death, but I know that death wasn’t easy or painless or quick for him and it definitely wasn’t easy for any of the family members even though it may have been expected.  Now all that is left are pictures, memories and rituals to remember him by, but thankfully the connections remain stronger than ever.  His favorite foods, his favorite songs, the books he loved to read and the little fold on the page he left bookmarked in the last book he was reading are reminders of his gentle existence.  The sight of his grandson taking ownership of his sweaters and jackets and wearing them to feel him close, are reminders of the strong bond he had with his grandson.  Somewhere we know that even though his mortal being may have passed on but he still resides within us and his future generation is making him immortal.  Somewhere we are reminded that being mortal means your journey towards death begins at birth and that loving someone and learning to let go are part of this journey.  Now only if it was easy to accept the logic in reality as it is to write on paper.