My father-in-law passed away this week.
As his family and friends know, Dad H was never one to boast or brag about anything he'd done - let alone reflect on the accomplishments of his life. But as one of the children to have married into the family, I want to share what he meant to me.
First of all, his acceptance and support of family members was unconditional and absolute. On the occasion of marrying his first-born child, I gained my first insight into Dad H's definition of family. As he and I bumped into each other at church on the morning of the wedding, he turned to me and asked, "Where's your mother?" Since we both knew my biological mother was miles away at her hotel, it only took a second to realize that he was referring to my soon to be mother-in-law. And from that moment, I truly believe that is how he considered me - and anyone else who was fortunate to marry one of his most beloved treasures - we were invited to become another one of his kids. And like them, to be worried over and appreciated, and supported - no matter what.
And despite raising a family of nine kids, I've heard them say over and over again how Dad H was able to make each of the nine feel special and for the time he shared with them, his "favorite."
Dad H served his country in the Korean war, managing to get married somewhere in between and return from military duty to provide for his young bride and baby daughter (my future bride!). And provide he did...
Its amazing to think of in today's day and age, but Dad H managed to progress in the very challenging computer and technology development field for over 30 years. He truly worked on computers before computers were cool. From Cincinnati to Massachusetts, Kentucky and Glasgow, Scotland, he was a trusted problem solver for one of the largest companies on the face of the planet. Right up to the day he retired, Dad H was equally at ease chatting about Cray Supercomputers as he was choosing the right flowers for the annual Mother's Day planting expedition.
Along the way, Dad H pitched in to raise nine very unique and spirited kids. They say his culinary skills were legendary, including Hishy-Hashy Hell Fire Stew. Dad H made sure everybody had their food before claiming his. And with determined follow-through, he could finish the pan to make sure there wouldn't be a pittance of leftovers to deal with in the refrigerator. Then long after everyone else had trailed off for homework or bed you would see him washing and drying dishes in preparation for the next day.
When the opportunity came to get a cabin in the woods, Dad H began the family ritual of days spent on the river. There was hot chocolate delivered to the kids' bunks and then he kept careful vigil - coffee mug in hand - while they happily explored the nearby trails and river bends. My wife fondly remembers those times as some of the happiest with her dad.
There were also woodworking projects. Intricately carved necklaces, book shelves, bunk beds, and school projects. If you followed him around the workshop long enough, Dad H was sure to locate exactly the right piece of hardware that you needed. Then, with a twinkle in his eye, he'd peer up between his glasses and ball cap to say dryly, "I knew I'd find it there somewhere." He was the family handyman at large and many a plumbing problem or furnace failure was brought to short order with a call to Dad H.
When he wasn't working, cooking, shopping with Mom or raising kids and grandkids, Dad H had a keen interest to read and learn. He could easily flow from topic to topic as it interested you. Politics, world affairs, history, etc. Dad H always enjoyed bantering about the literary works of Asimov and Heinlein, or a favorite classical music piece. He was also one of the most generous men I ever knew. He made sacrifices to personally support some of his own family members in measures that were much greater than his "fair share," and without a contrary word about payback.
There is so much more to say, and I am inadequate to the task. But to me personally, Dad H was a bright, insightful and kind man. A good citizen, faithful son, generous sibling, dedicated husband, warmly loving father and of course his favorite role - proud Grandpa.
I'll share my last memory as a bit of Good News.
In January of 1998, I had been troubled by Dad H's health as we all were. I took a moment during conversation in his workshop to tell Dad how much I appreciated him, and in fact that I loved him. I asked his indulgence to further say that because of my fondness for him, and knowing that we don't live forever, I had often wondered about his spiritual well-being. I shared with him that I believe our ultimate redemption will be through personal belief in Jesus as the Son of God.
I'm not sure I can tell you why I was surprised at what happened next, but without hesitation, Dad H stopped what he was doing, straightened up from the workbench and looked me straight in the eye. He said, "I've always believed that Tom. I've got no question about that - I may have some problems with organized religion - but not that."
"But not that," he said. No questions about his personal belief in Jesus as the Son of God. So from that day on, I lost my fear for the day we would eventually lose Dad H from this life.
We shook hands for the last time in October. He once again looked me straight in the eye and gave me that strong carpenter's grip. I'll remember that moment, and listening as his oldest daughter told him she loved him and hearing him say that he loved her.
And now I look forward to seeing him again in heaven.
What do you believe?
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