The sum of a man

I wrote an obituary today.  It was all business, but I injected a couple of paragraphs from my heart.  I expected my lovely mother-in-law to reject them, but they invoked emotion and she liked it.  

It is very hard for a pedestrian writer to evoke emotion and express the true depth of what someone means to you.

My father-in-law was known and loved by multitudes of people that experienced his spirit, loyalty and experience before I met him.  My time with him was limited to the last fifteen years of his life.   

I have enjoyed his stories, the stories of my Jason as a boy, John’s bride and the stories of the many nieces and nephews and their children.  He was of all things a historian, passing information from previous generations down through entertaining tales.  

The obituary covers the milestones of his life, school, finding is forever life partner, his son, the beloved neighbors in his chosen neighborhood and links to the lives he touched.  It doesn’t dig into the small moments that have meant so much to those of us along the way.

He was a faithful member of his church and honored the teachings.  He valued the lessons of family and tradition.  They guided his decisions.   However, when the church suggested the person a nephew had chosen as his wife wasn’t going to result in a “true” marriage because she wasn’t a member of the same church, my father-in-law and mother-in-law made every effort to attend the wedding and celebrate the now 45+ year union.  That simple act, one that the groom’s own parents didn’t do, still moves the groom and his bride to tears.

Many years later when I arrived on the scene, I was (am) a liberal, mildly Lutheran gal who fell deeply in love with his son.  John comforted me when my feelings were hurt that one of his beloved family members took a stand to avoid attending our wedding.  He told me that their focus on church was their problem, and that I was welcome in his family.   I know he cared deeply about the traditions of his church, but he could see that I was his son’s family and our partnership in life was more important than traditions.  

These are two small examples of the man I knew.  He wasn’t perfect, after a few ‘nips’ of scotch the stories tended to ramble in circles, but he was determined to see the good in anyone he was related to.  I never once heard him utter anything negative about anyone - except politicians. But, we’ve all been there. 

In an obituary of someone who lived 83 years, the moments that imbedded him into my heart can’t be the focus, but I will remember and love him with the same honor as my own dad.   As I support his bride and son through this journey of learning to live in a world where they can’t just call dad, I will follow behind with a similar broken heart.