It’s early Tuesday morning and I’m sitting at my mother-in-laws bedside at the local community hospital.  It seems as though this is the hundredth time I’ve found myself in this situation since moving her and my father-in-law back to Chicago because of failing health.  My Father-in-law, or Poppi as he was endearingly referred to by all, has since passed away.   He left behind his wife of over 65 years with a void in her heart as wide as the universe.  Their love was deep and strong and centered around their faith.  It was a strong union.  Among the strongest I’ve ever witnessed.

My hubs and I drove to the hospital in separate cars because, well, life is busy and our hectic schedules would pull us in different directions after our visit.  For us, even in the midst of emergency and tragedy, life doesn’t slow down. But, for my sweet mother-in-law…