My Dad-in-Law

Work was very busy and tiring last week and I clocked a total of 65 hours. The bright spot of the week was knowing it would eventually end. The lightness feeling I received from my dad-in-law the day he died was not a one day thing. I became very impatient and angry only twice during the week and those moments lasted only seconds before a strange calmness came over me and in my mind, I saw dad looking at me with his usual serene expression.

Stories and reflections about my dad-in-law:

He was not a tree killer. Marty and I planted a Japanese Maple sapling in our front yard. One early morning, Dad walked through the grass to collect the newspaper, walked into the tree and snapped the trunk at ground level. At daybreak, there was a knocking on our front door. There stood dad. His eyes were teary and he said, "I'm not a tree killer". Dad felt horrible. We eventually got another Maple and planted it in an area that did not see foot traffic.

Dad loved to browse thrift stores for banged up broken furniture that he could fix. He loved "restoring furniture". I silently disagreed with his choice to paint rather than stain because I personally think wood should be as natural as possible instead of painted but I kept quiet because dad was so happy whenever he worked on a project. His smile was ear to ear and his eyes were bright with joy whenever he presented his finished projects. And I admit he did amazing things with some very sorry pieces and made them look wonderful.

He seemed very happy on those many occassions when I asked for advice on painting, stenciling, woodwork. I enjoyed our time together when he shared his knowledge and skills with me.

When dad first moved here from Janesville, CA., he took cuttings from plants in our yard and planted them around his back deck. Several times I pulled a few out of the ground to prevent their spread. He never asked why I was uprooting his plants. When in full bloom, dad said they were beautiful flowers that he had not seen before. When I told him the plants were weeds native to Washington, he just said, "Doesn't matter. They are beautiful things full of life". That was dad, even nurturing the weeds. He was the same way with people. I never heard him utter an unkind word about any person.

Dad never revealed how he voted. He felt votes were secret and he kept them that way. He did not discuss politics. He also stayed quiet during discussions regarding religion. To dad, those were private things that were closed to the scrutiny or questioning of other people.

In many ways he was a secretive person. He rarely spoke his thoughts or feelings. His inner self was revealed in the things he did and the way he did them. He was one of the very rare individuals on this Earth who was genuinely true and good. Dad always presented himself as who he actually was, he didn't hide behind a false front. Of course there were times when he dressed differently than he normally would have, such as at his granddaughter's wedding, but even then the clothes didn't prevent his being himself.

I knew dad only eleven years, but my life has been enhanced in many ways because of his presence. I was blessed with an angel here on Earth and I am very grateful that he shared that short period of his life with me. I am proud to continue his legacy.

The St. Francis and the cat statue sit in the middle of the yard that separates our house from the house that dad and mom lived in when they first moved to Tacoma. Dad really liked the St. Francis statue.