And then he's gone

It was about two weeks ago when my father-in-law, who is still very vital, suddenly started to do less well.
He has just finished a trip with his girlfriend. We think it is fatigue and that it will go away after a few days.
We don't know yet that things will deteriorate at a breakneck pace.
How glad I am that we had lunch with him and his girlfriend Jes that Thursday. He still laughed heartily at the jokes that were made. But I still feel worried that day when he suddenly can no longer make his own sandwich and for a moment his always lively look makes way for a blank, cloudy look when I look at him.
My anxiety turns out not to be in vain, because on Friday he suddenly can't do anything anymore.
Investigations follow in the hospital, but the damage has been done and soon we all know that the end is near.
We spend a lot of time with him in the last days of his life and we can each say goodbye to him in our own way.
That last evening when Jos and I sit with him, we listen to the silence and feel how life is leaving him little by little.
The next day he lets go of his life and breathes his last. And it's okay…
There is a silence around him that can only be heard with the heart.
Yes, at 90 he is a wonderful age and that gives a feeling of great gratitude, but you are never ready for death.
We will now process the sadness until we only carry beautiful memories with us. And his good things will live on in our children and grandchildren.
We will carry him in the warmth of our family and think of him often...


I would like to thank everyone for their compassion in these last weeks, for the kind words, messages, cards, flowers and attendance at the funeral service.
It's good to feel so supported during such a period.