My late wife’s father died last week of an apparent drug overdose. He was 52 years old.
No one was shocked that he died that way. Most family and friends were surprised that he lived as long as he did considering how hedonistic his lifestyle was.
The last time I spoke to him was at my daughter’s funeral five years ago. I think we exchanged general pleasantries but both seemed relieved that we would no longer be part of each others life.
It’s sad, really, that our relationship reached that point. But my former father-in-law had a way of making friends, family members, and even casual acquaintances want nothing to do with him. Even his son, his only surviving child, hadn’t spoken to him in over a year.
So I have a funeral to attend Thursday.
The only part of the service I’m looking forward to is seeing my late wife’s brother again. Aside from a telephone conversation about his father this weekend, we’ve been out of touch for a long time. It will be nice to talk with him again and see how he is doing.