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My former stepfather is in hospice care.
We weren't close. I never lived with him and my mother. I never lived with my mother.
He's the father of my siblings and the grandfather to my nephew. The nephew ADORES him. He's five and will have no way to process this loss. Does anyone ever have the ability to process this loss?
My birth father died a few years ago, my stepfather knew him. They were in similar circles in high school, which is likely how they ended up married to the same woman at different times.
I remember him coming out to my car one morning when I picked up my nephew to tell me he was sorry. It was a touching moment in a sporadic relationship.
My mom is taking care of him. They've been divorced for decades but he needed somewhere to stay the last time he fell on hard times and she let him. He's been helping her with my nephew Eli since he was born.
They had a tumultuous relationship since high school. Verbal abuse, physical abuse a few months of happiness. When I think back to my view of their relationship I just see chaos. But I was young and there had to be something else holding her to him.
Some connection or spark that's long since ebbed out. Now they are just people who've been through a lot together. Going on their final journey.
I wonder how this will impact her. She hasn't said much about it. I don't know that she ever will. My mother is always one for internalizing things. She's steadfast in kind of putting her head down and plowing through.
In some ways, it's an admirable trait, but at times I wonder what internalizing all those negative thoughts will do to her insides.
She and I took Eli to my Pops' grave earlier this year. It would have been his 90th birthday. Ever since then Eli reminds me that my grandpa died, but he didn't want his grandpa to die. Now it's our reality.
Our sweet boy will go through the loss of his only father figure. I was 17 when it happened and as evidenced in my posts I'm still not OK.
I worry what this will do to his spirit and his bubbliness and everything that makes him our boy. Until then we'll just keep plowing through until we have to cross the bridge.
We weren't close. I never lived with him and my mother. I never lived with my mother.
He's the father of my siblings and the grandfather to my nephew. The nephew ADORES him. He's five and will have no way to process this loss. Does anyone ever have the ability to process this loss?
My birth father died a few years ago, my stepfather knew him. They were in similar circles in high school, which is likely how they ended up married to the same woman at different times.
I remember him coming out to my car one morning when I picked up my nephew to tell me he was sorry. It was a touching moment in a sporadic relationship.
My mom is taking care of him. They've been divorced for decades but he needed somewhere to stay the last time he fell on hard times and she let him. He's been helping her with my nephew Eli since he was born.
They had a tumultuous relationship since high school. Verbal abuse, physical abuse a few months of happiness. When I think back to my view of their relationship I just see chaos. But I was young and there had to be something else holding her to him.
Some connection or spark that's long since ebbed out. Now they are just people who've been through a lot together. Going on their final journey.
I wonder how this will impact her. She hasn't said much about it. I don't know that she ever will. My mother is always one for internalizing things. She's steadfast in kind of putting her head down and plowing through.
In some ways, it's an admirable trait, but at times I wonder what internalizing all those negative thoughts will do to her insides.
She and I took Eli to my Pops' grave earlier this year. It would have been his 90th birthday. Ever since then Eli reminds me that my grandpa died, but he didn't want his grandpa to die. Now it's our reality.
Our sweet boy will go through the loss of his only father figure. I was 17 when it happened and as evidenced in my posts I'm still not OK.
I worry what this will do to his spirit and his bubbliness and everything that makes him our boy. Until then we'll just keep plowing through until we have to cross the bridge.
