A day like today we were at my beloved father’s in law burial.
It’s been a year since his passing.
We’ve moved on by placing one foot in front of the other.
Out of us all, my mother in law has endured the hardest part. If I chose a mantra for her, it would be “one step in front of the other”. With each morning she’s had to get up and get going, placing one foot in front of the other to walk the difficult road of life. Most of all adjusting to living without her life long partner.
What have we learned along the way? I would say PLENTY. For starters there is so much to do in regards of the legal things, it’s pretty complicated navigating through the paper work. It gets emotional when we stumble on a note here and there, touching and looking at things that are private.
Trying to figure things out, specially when we don’t know where to begin.
Out of all his papers, the one that got to me the most was his plans to celebrate his 50th anniversary. He had made a detailed list of the people who would attend, and was working on a budget. For a second, that blew me away. In a sense, that simple piece of paper became a “shout out loud” on life’s fragile state.
Mostly all of us think we’re bigger than life, when really nobody can give us guarantees that we will be able to see the next sunrise. Bottom line, we’re just plain stupid when we don’t grasp the now and here to pursue at least some happiness.
True and real happiness doesn’t really exist, what we get are moments where we feel happy and in peace with ourselves and the world that surrounds us. Life would not be life if we were happy twenty-four/seven. Don’t you think?
We’ve had a year of lessons taught from the grave and others right at the grave literally.
Why? Well, one of the first lessons my husband and me learned was sitting under a raving sun painting his grave and cleaning a bit around it some time after the burial took place. I recall clearly one afternoon, when we got there my husband said,
“Aqui estoy otra vez, papito.”
He talked to the grave as if he could hear him and know that he was back again.
He was teaching me how he mourned the loss of his dad and showcased the profound love he felt for him. For some reason his words are locked up in a place he has only the key, but his actions yell at full voice how deep his feelings ran for his father.
My husband literally cried for the first time the last time we visited after finishing all the work. He made sure he was in a nice, freshly painted grave. It may seem nonsense to some, but that was his first step in healing.
He loved to write everything, he could have been a scribe in another time. His thoughts written here and there, many which linger at the back of our heads serving as guidelines to how to live.
One of my favorites is “With each passing second life begins all over again, let us happily walk to its encounter. We need to keep on moving further even if we don’t want to because that’s better than staying behind.” He battled cancer from the get go till the end. He did it the same way he lived, proud and vigorously.
He set great examples for his children to follow. He taught them kindness, compassion, love, hard work and above all sacrifice. He never abused his wife or children in any given form. Nevertheless, he was far from being the perfect man, husband, father or grandfather basically because nobody really is .
As a mother of adult children I fully understand what he went through to give his own grown children a helping hand.
His greatest legacy is his continuous effort to always try to reinvent who he was with fierce honesty and integrity towards not others, but to himself.
Through his journals, I saw glimpses of a man who tried to live the best he could.
So you see “my dear amigos” we are not eternal beings, and even though life is fragile we shouldn’t let go of our own moments of happiness. Let’s always move forward, letting the past to rest and grasping each second of the beauty of this life and our wonderful blue planet.
There is always more to the eye, then what we see so it’s important to never stop believing in the beauty of life or yourself.
“Hasta la próxima.”