Losing a close family member is never easy. No matter what the relationship was like, the heart still breaks. During the first two weeks of 2022, I lost two family members: my maternal uncle and my father-in-law. It has been twelve years since I said goodbye to my father, and five years since we buried my mother-in-law. Now, our only surviving parent is my elderly mother, whose health is also declining. I wasn’t present when my father passed away, but I witnessed both of my in-laws take their last breaths. Watching them leave this world broke my heart, not only for our family, but for them.
As I watched them fade, I couldn’t help but wonder: What thoughts were running through their minds? Were there things they wished they had done differently? Had they lived the life they wanted? My mind raced with questions while theirs seemed to drift into silence.
My father-in-law spoke his final words days before passing: “I’m ready to meet my Maker.” It seemed as though he was at peace. My sister believes our father fought death even in his coma, while my mother-in-law passed away quietly in her sleep. My father-in-law’s final days involved drifting in and out of consciousness, as though he was slowly negotiating with life.
It made me wonder: Do some people choose to fight death? Is a peaceful passing the sign of a fulfilled life? Do those who struggle have unresolved regrets or unspoken pain? I don’t know the answer, but I continue to wonder.
Growing up, my husband had a complicated relationship with his father, just as I did with mine. I can’t help but ask whether these relationships impact how we leave this world. My mother-in-law, like my own mother, was strong, devoted, and nurturing. She worked hard, cared deeply, and protected her family. I truly believe she sensed her time was near and met it with grace.
My hope is to be at my mother’s side when her time comes and that she leaves this world peacefully. Whatever lies beyond life, I hope it is where we all truly belong.
Wayne’s Memorial: A Few Weeks Later
We flew to Illinois for my father-in-law’s memorial. Both my husband’s final words to him and the military farewell were moving. Watching my husband receive the U.S. flag in recognition of his father’s service was an honor we will never forget.
As we gathered for the service and memorial lunch, I couldn’t help but observe the dynamics in the room. Funerals remind me of New Year’s resolutions, not in a cynical way, but in how they inspire promises that are often sincere, yet short-lived.
Before a new year, people vow to improve relationships, take care of their health, spend more time with loved ones, or live more intentionally. But when life becomes difficult or routine returns, many resolutions fade. Funerals are similar. Grief leads us to vow to forgive, mend broken relationships, or stay in touch more often. And although these promises are heartfelt in the moment, everyday life often pushes them aside.
I believe that during times of loss, most people mean what they say. Others may speak out of vulnerability, impulse, or the need to protect themselves in front of family with whom they’ve struggled. No matter the intention, honesty should remain at the core.
Even though we come from the same family, we are not the same people. What matters most is respect, care, and a willingness to withhold judgment. We won’t always get it right, but we can be true to who we are and allow others the same freedom. If you’ve tried genuinely to repair a broken relationship, you can walk away with peace, wishing them well, forgiving yourself if necessary, and moving forward even if forgiveness isn’t returned.
Life is fleeting. We owe it to ourselves to love better, live honestly, and cherish the time we have. As I watched my father-in-law take his last breath, I couldn’t escape the truth: one day, all of us will be there too.
Dedicated to the memory of Wayne Harley Kaufman (Knapp).