More Than Words

My father-in-law passed away on November 28, and I was privileged to be there with him, along with his wife, children and his grandchildren when he passed away from this life. I have never seen anyone die before. My own father, who was the most kind and generous man I've ever know, died alone in a hospital room some 23 years ago. I've always felt regret that such a giving man died alone in the middle of the night. What a wonderful thing it was that my father-in-law had his family around him, talking to him, hopefully hearing them say good-bye and telling him that they loved him.
But there was sadness in that room, a sadness due to reasons other than his passing. I stood in the corner of the room, letting his wife and children be closest to him. For the first time in the 24 years that I have known this family I heard them say "I love you" to one of their own. I was fascinated and saddened. My first thought was, "Why have you never said these things before?" But quickly followed the thought, "Thank you, Lord! Thank you for softening their hearts and letting them speak the words!"
I have to admit that my own family was not very huggy, very say-I-love-you-all-the-time, either. We were loud, to be sure. We fought, we laughed, we carried on. My dad was always quick to say "I'm proud of you." But, I can't for the life of me remember him saying "I love you" to me even once. It may seem strange, but it just never mattered to me. My dad loved me, and of this I am absolutely sure. He showed it every time I walked into the room and his face lit up with a smile. He spent time with me, talked to me, and was interested in everything I did. We loved being together. He taught me to show people how I feel. I happen to think that the words are important, as well. But, one can live without the words if actions have already spoken. It doesn't work the other way around, though. Nope. Mouth the words all you want, but if they aren't backed up with action, they are meaningless.
In that hospital room, as my father-in-law lay dying, I know the words were heartfelt. I'm glad they were said. I really hope and pray that my father-in-law heard my husband tell him that he was loved. I hope he heard and believed his daughter tell him that he was a good dad. I hope he heard us pray for him.
Both my sons were there in the room as their grandfather died. But at the very end, the youngest was just too upset to stay. I gathered him up and took him down the hall to the waiting area. His eyes were red and swollen, but he only sniffled. He was trying so hard to be a man! I wanted to gather my baby in my arms and rock him through the pain, even though he's 6'3". Eventually he was able to calm himself and speak to me. We talked about Pop-Pop and how very, very proud he was of his grandsons. How he loved those kids! My son and I talked about saying "I love you", and we talked about Pop-Pop's love for his grandsons. I asked my son if he ever had a doubt about whether or not his grandfather loved him. "No!" Of course my son never doubted his grandfather's love! Anyone could see it on my father-in-law's face when his grandchildren were near him. His face lit up. What a joy they were to him!
I told my son that he knew Pop-Pop loved him because of the way his grandfather acted with them. They laughed together, he joked with them, he gave them bubble gum. They enjoyed being together. I told my son that he witnessed an important life lesson at his grandfather's death. Love is more than the words, but the words are important, too. I said that it was a wonderful, wonderful thing that his fathercould finally say "I love you" to his father. There would be no regrets. But my son must have been deeply touched, because now, each morning as he leaves home he tells me, "I love you."