Karma's a b*tch, part II

So when I left off yesterday, it was time to head over to the farm house to visit his dear, sweet dad. He was pretty much the only person in Brittany who welcomed me with open arms, and who was oh, so patient with me as I was learning French. He always had time to sit and talk with me, to offer me a cup of coffee and a palet breton.  I was nervous about seeing him - Fab had mentioned that he only recognized people that he had really liked, and it left me feeling nervous, and wondering if the sentiments I had for him were one-sided.

But when I walked through the door, he light up like a light bulb, with this beautiful, huge smile, and it was honestly one of the most emotional moments I'd had all year.  To see that man, who was so strong and who had worked so hard his entire life lose nearly everything just as he was retiring - was heartbreaking.  And then of course right beside him sat my ex-MIL, who's about as mean as a hornet and who barely worked a day in her life, in perfect health.  Sometimes life really isn't fair.

Since he couldn't talk, I sat there talking about what I'd been up to for nearly the past ten years. One of Fab's aunt's was also there, which was a bit awkward, but we made do.  And his handicapped step-brother was also present, and provided for some much need levity by interrupting me and asking very loudly "Why you wearin' a ring?  You married?"

Up to that point, I had been kind of circling around the topic of C, saying "nous", but making no specific references to him.  But I couldn't really avoid it after that, so I gave him the glowing description he so wholly deserves, and they all said they were happy for me. I couldn't really be sure if they were sincere or not since the alcohol had been flowing quite freely, although not for me since I still had some driving ahead of me.

Not long after, the night nurse came to take care of his besoins and put him to bed, so I had to say my goodbyes.  The evil ex-MIL asked him to try to say my name, and my initial thought was "Man, you are cruel" as we'd just been talking about how unsuccessful his speech therapy had been, but then to everyone's surprise, he said my name!  Everyone else then went around the table trying to get him to say their names, but he wasn't having it.  So I leaned down to give him the bise goodbye, and I whispered in his ear that I had thought about him often over the years, that I was extremely grateful for everything he had done for me during my early days in France, and that I was hopeful for him.  He couldn't say anything but Oui back in response, but he put his hand on mine and we both had a little mist in our eyes as I said my final goodbye.

As I drove away, I felt both sadness at seeing him like that and the closure that I needed from seeing Fab.  I don't wish him any ill will, but even if I'm so much better off now, I wouldn't be human if I didn't admit I got some satisfaction from seeing the end of the relationship that broke up our own.