This isn’t a post for sympathy, but gratitude.
From the day I asked for your approval, thank you for trusting your daughter with me. Even more meaningful was your constant, unprompted verbalizing of that trust. That reassurance has been a priceless peace of mind over the years.
Even in your final days, with dementia heavy, you still somehow remembered your daughter’s husband. Any time we’d visit, you’d unknowingly reassure her with “There’s my guy. You’re a good man.” I don’t know what I did to imprint on you, but I’m grateful.
I hope I have as many people surrounding me on my death bed as you did.