As my father-in-law lay dying a number of years ago, I went to visit him in the hospital.  We had always been close, and were probably closer since my husband’s death several years before.  I knew I was going to miss him terribly (and I was certainly right about that).

Cancer had dug its way into Dad’s brain, and he suffered some rages and fits, but I was fortunate to see him only at times when he was lucid.  When I walked into his hospital room, I introduced myself to be sure he knew who I was.  “Dad?  Hi, it’s Suzi.  Do you know who I am?”

“Yes,” he croaked, as there was a tumor pressing on the nerve to his vocal folds.  “You’re Suzi.  Of course, I know you.”

I sat with him a few minutes and then I asked, “Have you seen Tim [my late husband, and his late son]?”

I don’t know why I was surprised to hear him rasp, “Yes.”  He went on to say, “He came and sat in that chair right there.  He told me everything would be all right and I should just do what I want to do.”

Even though that was the answer I had hoped for–or something like it–I was stunned for a moment.  I knew Tim was nearby at that moment, with Dad and me in the hospital room, waiting to help and support Dad’s transition.

My father-in-law has been gone 10 years this month.  I dedicate this post to him, and I am grateful he has love and peace–and Tim–on the Other Side.