A Little More Time

The first time I met my in-laws, I saw them walking hand in hand through a beautiful summer day in Portland, Oregon.

The next time I saw them, they were again walking hand in hand—this time down an icy road in the middle of a Seoul winter—talking, laughing, like best friends. Every so often, one of them would glance back to make sure my husband and I were still with them and hadn’t slipped on the icy road.

I remember thinking, If I am lucky enough to spend my life with their son, I will be okay. He will be on my side. He will be my partner. Looking at his parents, I saw what a lifelong partnership could look like. To me, they have always been humble, empathetic, brave, intelligent lovebirds who have faced every season of life together. I wanted a love like theirs.

Very recently, we received heartbreaking news about my father-in-law’s health. We learned that his time may be much shorter than we ever imagined.

I am scared for both of them. I cry, and my heart aches because there is nothing I can do to take away their pain.

Just yesterday, my father-in-law “liked” photos of Little Lion and Big Bear. Just yesterday, it was another ordinary day—we missed each other and promised we would visit soon. Today feels so fragile, and tomorrow suddenly feels like an uncertain promise.

My heart breaks for my husband. I wonder how he will carry this grief, so often disguised as anger, and whether one day—perhaps sooner than any of us are ready for—he will be left with the loneliness of an unfinished goodbye.

My heart also breaks for my mother-in-law. She has always approached life with science, reason, and careful analysis. Yet today, she is praying for a miracle. Not a miracle of a cure, but a miracle of time. Time to hold his hand a little longer. Time to laugh with him once more. Time with her soulmate.

I hope they are given just a little more time… to be.