We are life-ing hard these days – the eldest, the impetus for me to start this blog, has convocated. He has walked across the stage in his cap and gown, collected his high school diploma, and celebrated with his family. We are so, so proud of him, and he deserves (and will get) his own, separate blog post. I will go full mom-brag.

In the meantime, (and in the course of 48 hours after graduation – hello, circle of life!) we said goodbye to my father-in-law. It was incredibly peaceful, expected, and completely painless. He had the luxury of knowing – choosing where, when and how he exited this mortal coil. I am so thankful and in awe of the M.A.i.D process here, and should only be so lucky one day. It was a final chapter in a long, hard-fought battle with cancer.

My father-in-law was a diamond in the rough, a highly (often unsolicited!) opinionated, old-school man from humble beginnings, who valued hard work and honesty. He was as good as his word, and his word was good. I knew him for just under 24 years, through formative periods of my life transitioning from the chaos of my twenties to settling into myself in my thirties, and finally knowing myself in my forties. We celebrated a lot of shared family milestones, grieved elders passing, and welcomed his first grandchildren together. We celebrated a lot of life together.

We frequently disagreed, verbally sparred and debated, and I valued that with him – polar opposites on the socio-political spectrum; as long as we both came to the table with an educated, well-researched response, both held space at the table.

Al valued my ability to follow through my words to action every time, and I valued his constant, consistent presence, his daily, hourly support of us and our kids that was a mere phone call or drive away. Before saying his final goodbye, he publicly acknowledged my unwavering commitment to my family, and commended me for it. (Acknowledgements many people never receive in life from a parent figure.)

Al showed up. He showed up to soccer games, baseball games, birthdays, anniversaries, family barbeques. He was a constant presence with the children, and a nightly pre-dinner phone call, advising us where to buy the cheapest chicken or where prime rib was on sale for the week. He constantly checked in on the grandkids, spent hours and hours and hours teaching the eldest to drive standard, and cheered on the two younger ones in their pursuits of football and horseback riding. He was devoted to his family, fiercely loyal, and completely dependable.

I will miss his voice, his “heh-heh-heh” laugh, his twirling toothpicks, his suspenders, the spark in his eye that kept you perpetually on your toes.

As we move forward in grief and celebration rebuilding our lives without him in it, I will remember him with much appreciation for all that he gave, fondness for all of his personality, and love for all of his love given so freely back to his family.

Rest in Peace, Al.