Losing a loved one: What it means to my family

The recent death of my father-in-law — the first time my family experienced the process of witnessing someone we love die — unleashed a host of emotions.

When “appacha,” as our children called him, was moved to palliative care, I asked the doctor if it would be all right for the kids to be present when he passed on. The doctor saw no problem with them facing the realities of life but said as parents we would know best how they’d react. Our son, 12, burst into tears when he saw appacha in the hospital room with an IV line taped to his hand and an oxygen mask donning his face. My daughters, almost 18 and 14, also were visibly upset.

Several days after dad's passing, when I asked the kids how they were feeling, my eldest responded by writing a moving, introspective and hopeful essay revealing how she processed the events that unfolded. Then I realized that children are sensitive to matters we think they may not well comprehend and have a lot to say. But often their voices get lost because we are too busy taking care of important things.

For my husband and me, dad’s death also exposed a sad awareness of our own loss. My husband said he was now an “orphan.” He lost his mother just a year earlier. I joked that our kids and I had “adopted” him so he would be just fine. But kidding aside, we realized that as long as our parents are alive, no matter what our age, there is always a child in us. Someone to proudly display us to the world, saying, “Here’s my daughter (or son).” Someone we can introduce to our friends, saying, “This is my dad (or mom).” We can defer some decisions to them. Once they’re gone, we are the adults.

Also, we realize, we no longer have a place to “go home” to. The family house may still stand but with dad or mom not there to call out our name or greet us lovingly, the house is just a building. And the memories that their death brings alive are just memories.