Last weekend I had grand plans to knit, sew, relax, and slough off my obligations on the DH for a while. Alas, MIL passed away Monday afternoon after several long years of infirmity, and we sped off to be with FIL and help with the arrangements.
Interestingly, it was the best visit to Montana since I've known DH. Everyone was off work, and the shock had worn off by the time we got there, so we all spent days talking about MIL, laughing about dumb stuff they did as kids, or stuff she did before they were born. FIL doesn't talk much, but during the last week we all heard stories of how they met, where they lived before the kids came along, stories from earlier days. In the 8 years I've known him, I think he talked more this week than in the rest of the time combined. We took the kids to the park, we drove around and looked at the house she grew up in, and took FIL out to breakfast (his favorite) every day, and we had loads of good family time with no obligations. We laughed about the fact that well-wishers all brought chicken. (I think at one point, FIL had three family-size buckets, abut 60 pieces, of KFC at the house. Sympathy chicken, it was.) I knit on my socks while they talked about the crafts MIL did before her injury. The Bug played with Cousin D and the neighbor's puppy and always managed to know when someone, especially Grampa, needed a hug. MIL somehow arranged that the only two sunny times all week long were the afternoon she passed, and the hour of the cemetery gathering.