"I love you, Papi. Until we meet again. I'll take care of them. I promise."
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He was a fantastic man that made me smile whenever he was around or would talk to me. I seriously could not have asked for a more loving and caring person to be my surrogate father and to say he took me in and loved me as his own would have been an understatement.
Because that's just the kind of man he was. He took you in and once he had you in one of those infamous bearhugs, you were a goner. A giant man whose heart was as broad as his shoulders that he felt the need to carry the weight of the world on. It didn't matter what was happening or if something negative was said, he could somehow turn it around and make you feel ok. More than ok... loved.
There are no words to describe what we're all feeling right now. Devastation. Loss. Grief. None of those seem to even touch what this is. Bafflement would be the one I would think would encompass us all the best. Mostly because none of us can quite believe that he's gone.
Sometimes when something devastating like this happens, it almost feels selfish, because you have all these thoughts you can't seem to stop... and you're wondering if that makes you a bad person or if everyone thinks these things? Things like... How can he not be here to congratulate D and I on our second anniversary? How can he miss Christmas? Whose going to teach me random German phrases and how to cook authentic dishes from his home? Whose going to make sure my MIL is getting enough rest and tell her to calm down and take a load off? Whose going to let the kids climb all over him and laugh until he almost pees his pants?
It's not that I think it's truly important to know all these things, it's just that I honestly don't know what to do... or think... or say.
How do I look my MIL in the eye and tell her I'm so sorry about her loss when I have my amazing husband standing next to me? How do I comfort not only her, but my husband and SIL and BIL? He was the most dad stepdad that I have ever seen in my life. Didn't matter that all of my MIL's kids were older when they got together. Didn't matter that he had never had kids in his life. Once he realized he loved her, he immediately loved her children as his own as well. And they all love him. You would honestly never know they're a blended family unless someone told you.
And now, it all feels kind of... empty. No more picking him up at the airport on work trips. No more getting random phone calls to help out with trying to surprise his wife with a special present. No more watching him cook while he tells me stories about Germany. It's just all... gone. Like that, in the blink of an eye.
My father-in-law loved not only his wife, sons, daughter, and grandchildren, but also genuinely loved me as a daughter. And quite frankly, that is a gift and feeling that can never be replaced. He can never be replaced.
I remember the first time I met him. He had flown to Indy for a work convention and D and I picked him up in the middle of the night so we could all hang out. It was not only the first time I was meeting him, but also the first time he would see our house, as he hadn't seen D since he moved to Indy. I was sitting there and a giant of a man walked over to the car. I would be lying if I said just from the sheer size of the man and his baritone voice... that I wasn't a bit intimidated. But then, he got in the car and smiled at me and I just knew it was all going to be good. He had that way... a way to make you feel at ease.
From that moment on he was family to me and I was family to him. He even made sure to wrangle as many people as he possibly could to get them here for our wedding. He did whatever he could for his family and nothing made him happier than seeing the people he truly adored be happy and taken care of.
He was always the first one to ask me how I was doing and how work was going. He was quite essentially the father figure I never had. And while it should feel weird to say that, it feels more strange to not acknowledge it. Because it's the truth.
I can't imagine what it's going to be like moving forward without him at our side. Like with all things in life, and how he would want us to, we'll find a way to keep going, but it doesn't make the situation any less devastating and unfair. Of course, with moments like this it can all seem unfair. Because it is.
I will never understand why a good kind man had to go through something like this, and there are a million bad people out there living their lives like nothing affects them. I know you shouldn't question it, because you'll never truly find the answers you're searching for, but it doesn't make the feeling of defeat stop. Because when you lose someone you love that's exactly how you feel... defeated.
Then again, I've learned over the last three years that it doesn't really matter how much you question something, because that something is what you'll be searching for forever and never find. Therefore, while we all have a million questions, with the most prominent being "why?!" I choose to think of all the good things. It doesn't make it better, but if you're going to be thinking about it either way, you may as well remember the good instead of the terrible.
So, that's what we'll do. We'll remember and love and cherish and try. Because that's what he would've wanted. And I know that, because he made his feelings very clear.
I love you, Dennis. You're the best father-in-law a girl ever could've asked for and you will be missed more than I can ever say. You are so damn loved and I'm going to miss seeing that bright as all holy hell smile. You will never truly be gone, because your spirit and love will live on through all of us. We'll miss you and think of you always, and I truly hope you have found some form of peace. Whatever that may be.
In love, may you find the next. Safe passage on your travels, until our final journey to the ground. May we meet again.
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