Today we bury my dad


I know, he was my father-in-law, but I called him dad, too. In many ways, he was more of a father to me than my own, who is still living and whom I love but who seemed uncomfortable in his role of father to his four children. “Mac”, however, was the quintessential father, and raised his boys to be real men. I was blessed to have married one of them.

Mac (I’ll call him that here so as not to confuse readers as to which dad I’m talking about) knew I had issues. When Kevin’s and my on-again-off-again relationship finally led to marriage, Mac questioned his son to make sure he knew what he was getting into. Never one to let difficulty stand in the way, Kevin affirmed that he was going into our marriage with his eyes wide open. I credit Kevin’s love with bringing the most healing and change in my life. He learned that love from his parents, who weren’t perfect (there is no such thing) but who nurtured their children and brought them up “in the way they should go.”

Up until last night I was busy getting ready for today and have had little time to think and let it sink in. I’d wanted to write a poem and even had a good springboard, but that will have to wait. I like what my friend Toni said with regard to a comment I made about things I wish I’d have asked him or told him. She has relatives who passed away also, and now she “talks to them in poems.” I only wish I could hear his responses.

Now it’s time to cut up the pans of brownies and get them ready and then hop in the shower. I hope the rain stops when it’s time to go to the cemetery. Then again, it’s raining on the inside, so why shouldn’t it rain on the outside as well? It helps to focus on the good things, and I thank God for the blessing of Mac’s life and for allowing me to be a part of his family.


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