Cycle of Loss and Renweal

My stepfather in law passed away almost six months ago.  He stopped living many many moons before.  I've written of him previously, his drinking and abuse, the hate that spewed from his mouth and the life not so much lived as belligerently existed.  He was exhausting to be around, and a part of me is not sad that he is gone from us.  The part of me that cares deeply for his stepson, his wife and caretaker, his grandchildren; that part of me has great compassion for those that truly miss him and struggle with his loss.    


Last night on the patio of my mother in laws brand spanking new condo, she said to me, "I tried not to miss him... but I do anyway."  How could you not miss someone with whom you lived with, loved and were married to for 20 years?    She says she doesn't miss the house - it was a ton of work, in great disrepair and sucked her into the vortex of being not good enough, not, not, not.  But she misses the neighbors and the neighborhood.  I get that.  It makes perfect sense to miss the people who cared enough about your safety to check in on you and make sure your husband didn't take out one of his violent drunken rages upon you.   


She says she doesn't get it when everyone tells her it's normal to not feel like you've got your bearings or solid footing, "after all you've been through."  She truly does not understand that a year of taking care of a bedridden husband in hospice care is exhausting, both mentally and physically and the fact that he manipulated, berated and tortured her throughout made it exponentially worse.  She has spent 20 years in servitude to his disease.  


I get that.  Her son gets it.  It's time for her now.  The new glasses, trips to the doctor and dentist, new furniture and new clothing.  They are things she should have done decades ago and never did.   My wish for her future is people who lift her up, praise her abilities and lavish love upon her.