My FIL died today. Father's Day.
After an all to brief battle with cancer. Diagnosised in Decemeber. 6 months from the healthest 62 year old I've ever known to a shadow of his former self.
He died at home. His wife, son and daughter were by his side. He had a couple of bad hours, but the end was peaceful.
Yesterday he had taken a turn for the worst. Only one day that he couldn't get out of bed. Felt pain. Was incoherent. I feel like the worst part of cancer is the suffering at the end. The loss of dignity. Thankfully this was also brief.
I'm sure the rush to the airport, the luggage, the stress is not great for em-baby. Honestly at this point...who cares?
My mom seems to think this embryo will stick. It will be a boy. We'll name it Jack after my FIL.
If this was a movie that's how it would happen.
I have been reminded over and over the past six months that our life is not a movie.