So, you never expect to start your week with your father-in-law keeling over in your guest bedroom, but here we are.
After a cardiac arrest on Sunday morning, Bob passed away Thursday afternoon. It’s been a crazy, horrible, surreal week of anxious waiting at hospital bedsides, making sure we have enough cereal and clean laundry, nervously anticipating EEG results, shuttling the kids to school and swimming and gymnastics. There’s plenty to be thankful for: that it happened here instead of on the road, that we live ten minutes from a heart hospital, that Andy’s brother and sister could get here quickly, that Bob could pass without being aware, surrounded by his family. But that doesn’t make it any easier to see my mother-in-law without her husband of 53 years, my husband without his father, my kids without a grandfather.
We head up to the lake this weekend to say our good-byes. If you’re the type to send prayers and good thoughts to others, we’d appreciate them.
And if I have any angels reading this (heaven had better have the internet, or I’m not going): that new guy who showed up, you know, the one in the top hat, pince-nez and bathrobe, who’s carrying around his banjo? He’s ours. Take good care of him, please.