So, December 26th my FIL died. Like, graveyard dead. Actually, it would be urn dead if he wasn't still chilling at the funeral home (no pun intended). As it turns out, it's really expensive to just have someone cremated and thrown in a shoe box. To actually try to give them something with a little more dignity is four of our house payments. And funeral homes don't take payment plans. Anyone who is reading this right now who only had one of their two or more children not turn out to be duds, pre-plan your funeral so the one non-dud kid doesn't have to leave you at the funeral home for several weeks. Young people reading this, if you want to be rich when you grow up, get yourself a funeral home. Sure, it's morbid and depressing, but you probably wouldn't be able to see all the dead people over your stacks of money.
We really are about to spring him from the morgue. NJ's aunt is helping out since the FIL did a lot for her over the years and since Nathan's other two siblings think buying drugs and fighting rival biker gangs is more important than giving their dad a funeral. For some reason they think we have lots of money so it's no big deal. A teacher and a plumber? Are they high? Oh yeah...never mind.
But, other than the dead body situation, we've handled the death well. I 10,000% owe my coping to my friends Erin, Rosa and Candy and the SGG. They all made me laugh and helped get my mind off the dead body in the next room the day he died. And, thanks to Leiah and some guy called Bobo (God rest his soul), he'll also have an awesome fake obit where he has the best nickname ever.
My last "real" conversation with him also helps make things easier. In the four days before he died he stopped peeing in the bathtub and instead wet his pants. Even though we have more Depends than anyone without bladder control problems needs, NJ just wouldn't put them on him. So, one afternoon, while NJ was out shopping and I was here alone with Papaw, he wet himself. As we know, I have issues with his down there parts (I whispered that), so I panicked and began explaining I'd try to change him with my eyes closed and he wasn't budging nor could he communicate, which made me panic more and ramble like a lunatic.
Finally, I was like, "Am I getting on your nerves? There's no reason to not tell me at this point cause it's not like I'm going to get all mad at you now."
His response. "Yeah."
I find it fitting that was the last coherent thing he said.
I sure did love that old dude.