I went to my ex-MIL's house this weekend to check on her husband. I felt bad for not going to the funeral, after sharing somuch of her life with her towards the end. He is a whiteman from Alabama, who lived for the last decade loving her and claiming her grandchildren as his. He worked and they struggled the whole time, by the time his disability and back pay kicked in, she was on her deathbed already He has no immediate plans to return to Alabama.
He has grown a full beard, now.
The house was the same as she always had it in her second hand decor, but cold. Not cold in temperature,but cold as in that life that was always in there and always happy to see me, wasn't there anymore.
She was gone, not even a trace of her spirit or an echo of her laugh. I told him he is always welcome to visit, even though I knew he wouldn't.
I swallowed my tears and turned and walked away.