Last night, we drove the 16 hours or so to get home for his father's service and the apparently requisite family drama.
It just breaks my heart that these people who had little to nothing to do with my father-in-law are being so demanding and rude about the funeral arrangements.
My husband has traveled for five days in order to be here for the memorial service and when he and I have to leave in time for school Monday and my doctor's appointment, his aunt, who hasn't spoken to Chad since our wedding because I failed to invite people I didn't know existed, calls and asks why Chad can't stay longer. She hasn't spoken to his father in about as many years either, but now that he is dead and allows her to be at the center of family drama, he was her "dear" brother. My sister-in-law that has been his caregiver for years is trying to hold her tongue in the interest of keeping the drama to a minimum and not alienate anyone unnecessarily. I told her I didn't care what they think of me, if anyone dares criticize her to me, they are going to get an earful. She gave up her home, her job, her friends and moved 20 hours from home to care for her ailing father who was not always the easiest guy to be around much less live with. No one is going to say $(!T to her around me.
It is a minimum of a 3 hour drive from where we are to where they are burying his father's ashes and then another 16 hours, plus stops, to get home from there. I know how wonderful I feel today after driving all night and can't imagine doing this without a day to recuperate before heading back to work. They wanted us to drive to do the burial Saturday evening and then drive home from there.
We offered to have it earlier in the day on Saturday, but they wouldn't do that either. We have to drive overnight so the baby sleeps most of the drive and is the least obnoxious as possible. Even so, she cried for about three or so hours of our trip here. I was driving for a long bout of her tears and felt like the worst mother ever, like I was scarring her by not pulling over to hold her.
The final decision over what to do about the interment of the ashes was to leave the formal ceremony for the "family" and my husband and his sister went to scatter some of his ashes in a place that meant the most to them, the lake where they swam, barbecued, fished and grew up with their father.
The hardest part for me is watching my husband break down and not being able to do or say anything except I love you. His father is gone, he feels he didn't take the time or couldn't accept how bad it was, or something. He finally realized when he saw the picture of his father prior to cremation and the jars of his ashes. It broke his heart and broke mine to see it. They say a man doesn't grow up until his father dies. I don't know if Chad will change in any way, but he understands that his father, so strong and tough, is gone.
All the tears and hugs can't actually heal anything. We might have been able to drive home, but he can't actually go home again.
It just breaks my heart that these people who had little to nothing to do with my father-in-law are being so demanding and rude about the funeral arrangements.
My husband has traveled for five days in order to be here for the memorial service and when he and I have to leave in time for school Monday and my doctor's appointment, his aunt, who hasn't spoken to Chad since our wedding because I failed to invite people I didn't know existed, calls and asks why Chad can't stay longer. She hasn't spoken to his father in about as many years either, but now that he is dead and allows her to be at the center of family drama, he was her "dear" brother. My sister-in-law that has been his caregiver for years is trying to hold her tongue in the interest of keeping the drama to a minimum and not alienate anyone unnecessarily. I told her I didn't care what they think of me, if anyone dares criticize her to me, they are going to get an earful. She gave up her home, her job, her friends and moved 20 hours from home to care for her ailing father who was not always the easiest guy to be around much less live with. No one is going to say $(!T to her around me.
It is a minimum of a 3 hour drive from where we are to where they are burying his father's ashes and then another 16 hours, plus stops, to get home from there. I know how wonderful I feel today after driving all night and can't imagine doing this without a day to recuperate before heading back to work. They wanted us to drive to do the burial Saturday evening and then drive home from there.
We offered to have it earlier in the day on Saturday, but they wouldn't do that either. We have to drive overnight so the baby sleeps most of the drive and is the least obnoxious as possible. Even so, she cried for about three or so hours of our trip here. I was driving for a long bout of her tears and felt like the worst mother ever, like I was scarring her by not pulling over to hold her.
The final decision over what to do about the interment of the ashes was to leave the formal ceremony for the "family" and my husband and his sister went to scatter some of his ashes in a place that meant the most to them, the lake where they swam, barbecued, fished and grew up with their father.
The hardest part for me is watching my husband break down and not being able to do or say anything except I love you. His father is gone, he feels he didn't take the time or couldn't accept how bad it was, or something. He finally realized when he saw the picture of his father prior to cremation and the jars of his ashes. It broke his heart and broke mine to see it. They say a man doesn't grow up until his father dies. I don't know if Chad will change in any way, but he understands that his father, so strong and tough, is gone.
All the tears and hugs can't actually heal anything. We might have been able to drive home, but he can't actually go home again.
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