My wife is Portuguese and her favorite Portuguese word is “saudade,” pronounced saw-dauj-aye, I believe. It means the presence of absence. It’s how we continue to love those who have left us. Blessings upon your family as you continue to love your father-in-law in that way.
Oh my, what a remarkable capture of family love and history and life stories. These lines especially touched me, Shawn, "Because with death there is always that interminable ocean, dark and foreboding, something we can’t see beyond. Uncrossable for now. And while there is hope (“We do not mourn as those without hope”), there is also the inarguable reality of his absence.
This is where we must continue living, all of us, on this near shore, waiting and hoping."
It's the continuing to live that must be the hardest. May God be near you and Maile and your kids.
It hit me, sitting in the corner booth of my favorite coffeeshop at the beach, this morning, that my sadness at leaving, this year, is knowing we’re returning to that time of the year where the loss of my father-in-law feels nearest.
It’s been almost two years and still, at times, they come — the waves. Loss… absence… that seeing of a face and a presence so beloved in the ones connected to him by blood, and in my life, by heart.
Thank you for giving words to such a gift of legacy and connection and inevitable grief.
My wife is Portuguese and her favorite Portuguese word is “saudade,” pronounced saw-dauj-aye, I believe. It means the presence of absence. It’s how we continue to love those who have left us. Blessings upon your family as you continue to love your father-in-law in that way.
Thanks, Kelly. I love that word.
Sa-oo-duh-gee, at least in brazilian portuguese
Thank you for the proper translation, @Maria in Chios island, Greece!
Shawn,
I am so sorry for the loss of Maile's dad, your father in law.
After I somehow stumbled on 'Refuse to Drown', I stayed for your deep wisdom on the emotional underworld.
You've always offered a measure of solace to me, and for that I am grateful.
'The inarguable reality of his absence' - I'm three years into an experience of grieving my friend Steve's choice to end his life.
It seems to be only now that it's sinking in.
Wishing you and your family peace and comfort in the days ahead.
Casey
Suicide has touched my life, as well. I grieve with you. May Steve’s memory be a blessing.
Thank you.
I am so sorry for your loss. ❤️
Take care,
Casey
I'm sorry, Casey. Thanks for your kind words.
I’m so sorry for your loss. It sounds like he was bigger than life. It also seems that his great love for family lives on.
Thanks, Kristin.
Oh my, what a remarkable capture of family love and history and life stories. These lines especially touched me, Shawn, "Because with death there is always that interminable ocean, dark and foreboding, something we can’t see beyond. Uncrossable for now. And while there is hope (“We do not mourn as those without hope”), there is also the inarguable reality of his absence.
This is where we must continue living, all of us, on this near shore, waiting and hoping."
It's the continuing to live that must be the hardest. May God be near you and Maile and your kids.
Thank you, Jody.
May his memory be a blessing.
I’m so sorry for you loss. Thank you for sharing this. It’s beautiful and so heart felt.
A beautiful and thoughtful tribute.
You captured both the beauty of his life and the pain of his loss. This is a powerful piece. So sorry for this empty place in your lives.
Thanks, Linda.
What a beautiful post. I am sorry for your loss. He seems like a wonderful man!
He really was, Jo.
Such a poetic retelling of their meeting and how many moments must have come together to bring them both to that time and place..
The words “meant to be” are echoing in my brain as I read your tribute to Maile’s father.
Thanks, Teyani.
Oh Shawn, what a beautiful tribute. Jim does live on in our children and grandchildren in their Faces and their mannerisms. I miss him so much.
It hit me, sitting in the corner booth of my favorite coffeeshop at the beach, this morning, that my sadness at leaving, this year, is knowing we’re returning to that time of the year where the loss of my father-in-law feels nearest.
It’s been almost two years and still, at times, they come — the waves. Loss… absence… that seeing of a face and a presence so beloved in the ones connected to him by blood, and in my life, by heart.
Thank you for giving words to such a gift of legacy and connection and inevitable grief.
Praying for your family. ❤️🩹
Thank you, Kristine.
I’m grateful to learn about Jim. May he continue to be felt by those he loved.
Thanks, Shaista.
Beautiful
This is beautiful, Shawn. Grief is so great and weighs so much. Prayers for your navigating these waters.
Thanks, Luke.
I'm so sorry for your loss. This is a lovely tribute and meditation.
Thank you, Lucy.