On a sunny autumn day, the muted fall leaves colouring an elaborate quilt on the rowed hills of east Tennessee, I finally, fully, felt the loss of my mother in-law while I sat with my wife next to the coffin for graveside service on Saturday.

I will not see her smiling face or hear her voice her concern for her daughter’s health, anymore.

Last night, when we drove into the garage, the absence hit home once again — no calling my wife’s mother to let her know we made it home safely after returning from east Tennessee.

Mortality.

We live and die.

Now, my wife and I deal with the imbalance, she with no parents or sibling and I with both my parents and my sister alive.  My wife and I each have one living pair of blood-related niece and nephew.

My wife is ready to be free of traditional family obligations such as holiday gatherings.

We shall see.

No doubt we face a transition.

A transition from what to what, I don’t yet want to know, although I can project a few future possibilities.

A superglued broken cup commemorating the 2005 Paderborn Weihnachtsmarkt attracts my attention, hinting at the future.

The parts of my wife and me put on hold until her mother died are ready for release.

However, post-death logistics remain…dividing the estate, modest as it is, including photo albums, Christmas ornaments, kitchenware and a few dozen decks of playing cards used for bridge games; writing thank-you notes to those who assisted toward the end of and after my wife’s mother life.

One more day of mourning/grieving our loss and then life goes on…sigh…

My mother in-law and me, 1st Nov 2008, Clinch Mountain Overlook

A quiet, lonely day today.

Time to sharpen a pencil and work on the Book of the Future…