I apologize for not taking the time to write up the background on my sad late husband's family. If anyone is curious, there are older posts about them. My former father in law died on Tuesday night. His brother, my late husband's uncle, has been checking on him every night since his wife died last May. The uncle and his wife have help father in law go to the doctor, get his affairs in order and get his house in order. They opened their house to him for Thanksgiving and Christmas. They've been very good to him. I couldn't do those things as there has never been love between the two of us. He has never had a conversation with me (that is not an exaggeration). He took us to lunch once a month for the past 6 years and said "hello" and "good-bye" and nothing in between. Not one story. Not one memory. A vast ocean of silence. When my husband was still alive, father in law was nasty to me. He said some terribly hurtful things. He treated me with disdain and contempt and resentment. He treated his two sons and his wife the same way, so I didn't really feel singled out. Since he passed, I telephoned my late brother in law's friend whom I will call Tina. brother in law also died by suicide and Tina and I have had many conversations. She was very close to brother in law and terribly damaged by his death. father in law dumped all the paperwork and gruntwork of handling brother in law's estate onto Tina. I kept telling her to ask for payment for all those services. father in law was bossy and demanding and inconsiderate of the time and effort she had to expend. This is the piece that I need the wise minds of the board to weigh in upon: father in law told Tina every time he spoke to her that he loved her. Every time. He called her to have chats with her. CHATS. HE ANSWERED HER QUESTIONS. He treated her like a daughter. He had CONVERSATIONS with her. Never once did he call to tell my children that he loved them. Never did he speak those words to me, the wife of his eldest son. I doubt he even said those words to his wife of 60 years or his own sons. How do I make sense of this? I don't understand. How can a man live his entire life behaving in a nasty way toward his family but show love, connection, and kindness to Tina. It feels eerie that all of them are gone now. I dread the memorial on Saturday in the tiny town where my former inlaws lived out their long, empty lives. Maybe I will get lucky and the lady with the beehive hairdo will be the organist. She plays dirges out of tune. Then I will be struggling not to laugh at the intense irony.