The Sweetest Mother's Day Gift!
SearchSearch
SearchSearch

Grief, Marriage

To My Father-In-Law in Heaven, You Would Be So Proud of the Man Your Son Became

  • 3  Minute Read
vintage photo of father and son
Image via Rrenee Dzieciolowski

To my father-in-law:

I’ll never get to meet you.

Physically, that is.

Maybe one day in Heaven, but here on earth, unfortunately, that time won’t ever be.

I only know stories of you. The heartwarming kind that make me smile when I hear them. And the ones that make me laugh pretty hard, too.

But the best ones are those told when I see your son in you. When I hear them and think, Yep, he’s just like his dad.

Those really stick out in my mind.

RELATED: To Those Who Know the Bitter Hurt of Losing a Parent

Because I may not know you, but I do. I know of you. I know what kind of man you had to be to raise the son you did.

Part of you will always be with him. Inside of him.

And even though he was only 17 when you passed, you taught him more than you probably think you did.

So I want to share with you the type of man your son grew up to be. The son you didn’t get the chance to spend enough time with. The son you missed out on because God needed you more.

RELATED: I Wish She Could Have Met You, Dad

Your son grew up to be a good man. A really, really good man.

A man who didn’t let your death take away his faith. And even though he may have strayed from church for a while, he found his way back. And he prays for you. I pray for you. Our kids pray for you.

Your son grew up to be an incredibly smart man. He is one of the smartest people I know. I tell him that and he follows with, “But you don’t know that many people.” I laugh. And that’s when I see your humor. The humor he got from you.

Your son is a hard worker. He is passionate. He takes pride in his work. He is a problem solver. He doesn’t cut corners. I know you worked hard, too. He told me so with admiration in his eyes.

He wanted to be just like you.

Your son has a big heart. And a soft side not many get to see. He is thoughtful and loving. He is sensitive, too. He loves like I know you did, quiet but strong.

RELATED: Dear Husband, Your Strong Hands Hold My Heart

Your son grew up to be a husband. The kind of husband who loves me unconditionally. And he surely swept me off my feet. I know he got his charm from you. The way he can look at me from across a room—I still get butterflies.

Your son grew up to be a dad. A really amazing one. And he struggles just like any father does. He carries the weight of financial responsibility. He works hard to balance work and family. He gives all he can.

You would be proud of him, so proud of him, because he turned out to be great.

He found his way. And as much as he misses you, he carries you with him in his heart. There is no replacement for a father’s love, but there is certainly a place for it. So thank you for letting him find his way to me. I know somehow you were a part of that plan.

Until we meet one day, I just want you to know how much I love this man you helped create.

So God Made a Grandmother book by Leslie Means

If you liked this, you'll love our book, SO GOD MADE A GRANDMA

Order Now!

Articles by Renee Dzieciolowski

Renee Dzieciolowski

Renee is a small business owner and stay-at-home mom to one sweet but sometimes sassy daughter and one very rambunctious son. Most days you’ll find her running on minimal sleep and chai tea lattes, trying to find new ways to entertain her kiddos (or places to hide from them!) and writing during hours she should be sleeping! Follow her blog New Adventures in Motherhood or check her out on Facebook and Instagram @newadventuresinmotherhood.

I Miss Having Parents
In: Grief
Grown daughter posing between smiling parents
by Marissa Bader

I have been living with the ache of loss for so long that I truly don’t remember what it feels like not to carry it. Sometimes it rests quietly beneath my ribs, dormant and almost polite. Other times it rises without warning—on an ordinary Tuesday afternoon, in the middle of a coffee line—and cuts straight through me. Today, it was a song. I was waiting for my coffee when “Pictures of You” by The Cure drifted through the café speakers. I hadn’t heard it in 20 years. In my twenties, it meant heartbreak—young love unraveling, relationships ending before they were...

Keep Reading

What No One Tells You about Losing a Sibling
In: Grief
by Allison Marie

Nobody tells you that when you lose a sibling, your entire childhood flashes before your eyes. There’s no better witness to what you experienced growing up than that one person who was standing nearby for all of it. And when they’re gone, a part of that childhood and a part of that story goes with them, because it was only ever known between the two of you. There’s no last chance to say, “Remember when?” or to laugh about the things that made you laugh to tears together, a million times at the kitchen table. There’s no last conversation about...

Keep Reading

Grief Didn’t Break Me, It Rearranged Me
In: Grief
Sad woman looking off to the side
by Lisa Ingrassia

I survived losing my father after his long, grueling battle with cancer. It was one of the most difficult seasons of my life. I had a front row seat to watch cancer pick him apart piece by piece. When you lose a parent, you lose a part of yourself. They say time heals all wounds, but you never stop missing the good ones, and there are days when it feels like it just happened. By the grace of God, I survived, but I will always miss my father. Then, almost a decade later, I lost the career that helped me...

Keep Reading

I’m Learning To Be Soft and Strong
In: Grief
Woman sitting and crying on floor
by Jessica Taylor

During the weeks we cared for my grandmother in hospice, survival mode felt necessary. There were medications to track. Visitors to update. Logistics to manage. I remember sitting on the couch that served as my makeshift bed and listening to the rhythmic hissing and puffing of the oxygen machine one night. While my mom showered off the day, I texted my sister updates and sent my husband a quick message of love. I could still smell the lavender candle we had lit earlier in the day to mask medical scents. The house was quiet, but my mind wasn’t. I was...

Keep Reading

The Legacy Our Mothers Leave Is In the Details
In: Grief
Woman's hands holding beautifully wrapped small gift
by Kathy Wetsell

It has been two months and nine days since my mom passed away. The first several weeks were spent on the details and logistics of planning her service. She passed in December, so once her beautiful service had passed, I busied myself with the preparations for Christmas. By mid-February, I finally began to process some feelings of grief on a deeper level. The quiet of this less-busy season is allowing the grief to soak in a bit more. Not the big things; not the obvious, grief-heavy reminders that stop me in my tracks. Instead, I’ve been noticing the small things....

Keep Reading

You Never Get Over Losing Your Mother
In: Grief
Woman and grown daughter smiling
by Louisa Vilardi

It’s been 10 years since I last heard my mother’s voice. Ten years since I could pick up the phone and ask a question I already knew the answer to, just to hear her say it anyway. Ten years since someone loved me in that very specific, unconditional, occasionally annoying way that only a mother can. My mom died in 2015. And while “passed away” sounds softer, more polite, the truth is that she left. Suddenly. Permanently. With no forwarding address. She was gone. What I’ve learned in the decade since is not what I expected. I thought the biggest lesson...

Keep Reading

My Husband Is By My Side Through Every Storm
In: Grief, Marriage
Man with arm around woman's chair
by Kristyna Moore

The year 2025 began as a quiet storm. I was slipping into the fog of depression while navigating the early chaos of perimenopause, and some days simply getting out of bed felt impossible. My thoughts felt dark and heavy, my body unfamiliar, my energy nonexistent, and my moods uncontrollable. And yet, in the haze, there was one constant: my husband. He noticed the subtle shifts I barely acknowledged. The sighs, the quiet retreats into myself, the moments I almost broke. Instead of judgment or frustration, he offered presence. He held space for my struggle without trying to “fix” it, and...

Keep Reading

Losing My Mom Shaped Me As a Mother
In: Grief
Woman hugging young child, back view
by Joanna Weeks

Becoming a mother has a way of bringing old wounds back to the surface, even ones you believed had healed. I never imagined grief would surface so strongly in my motherhood journey. I thought it was something you carried silently, something that faded with time. But becoming a mother felt like my loss rising to its feet and saying, I’m still here There are moments when I reach for my phone to call my mom, only to be met with the reminder that I can’t. I want to ask her if what I’m feeling is normal, if the exhaustion softens,...

Keep Reading

Memories of My Grandma Live On
In: Grief
Glass fish sitting on window sill
by Casey Sorensen

Be intentional. Take the picture. Create memories. Because even when we think we have all the time in the world, one day it will slip away. Sadly, this is exactly what happened to my grandma and me. While I was growing up, my dad and his parents had a strained relationship, and they were estranged for about the first five years of my life. Thankfully, they reconciled, and my grandparents and I finally had the opportunity to establish a much-anticipated relationship. Though I was never able to form the same closeness with them as I had with my maternal grandparents,...

Keep Reading

Netflix Captured What I’ve Treasured for 17 Years: My Daughter’s Room Exactly How She Left It
In: Grief, Motherhood
Girl's bedroom with posters on the wall and toys on the bed
by Daphne Bach Greer

It was a Sunday evening. I was alone, scrolling through Netflix, searching for something, anything, to fill the quiet. Then I stumbled upon a documentary I had no clue existed, called All the Empty Rooms. After reading the description, my heart immediately went out to all the parents who contributed to this film, and to the man behind it, Steve Hartman, whose compassionate heart radiates in every frame. One statement he said hit me like a freight train: “What we need to talk about is the child that’s not here anymore.” Period. Powerful truth. Curiously, I started watching. Then I...

Keep Reading

Motherhood

Dear Child, It Is My Joy To Care For You

Next Post

We All Need That One Friend—And I'm So Glad You're Mine

Friendship

We All Need That One Friend—And I'm So Glad You're Mine

You May Also Like

I’m a Mom Who Was Only Meant For One

Motherhood

I’m a Mom Who Was Only Meant For One

Our Secret to a Happy Marriage? Separate Beds (Just Like the Sitcoms!)

Marriage

Our Secret to a Happy Marriage? Separate Beds (Just Like the Sitcoms!)

The View from the Hospital Recliner

Grief

The View from the Hospital Recliner

I Am An Essential Worker’s Wife

Marriage

I Am An Essential Worker’s Wife

I Try to Look Good For My Husband

Marriage

I Try to Look Good For My Husband

I Fear the Day I Don’t Remember Your Voice

Grief

I Fear the Day I Don’t Remember Your Voice

When Life Requires a Trigger Warning

Grief, Inspiration

When Life Requires a Trigger Warning

I Married a Man Who Puts Our Family First

Marriage, Motherhood

I Married a Man Who Puts Our Family First