It has been about six weeks since my dear father-in-law passed away. I was thinking about him this morning, looking at his picture, smiling to myself but feeling kind of sad.
Dad was a quiet man, but maybe surrounded by a wife and four daughters he just couldn’t get a word in most of the time! The evening after his funeral, the whole family had a wonderful “Irish wake” of sorts where we each talked about and toasted to something that we especially remembered about Martin/Marty/Daddy/Granddaddy. What a great time of remembrance that was! We shared a few tears but more than a few laughs and heard some great stories, a few of which no one had told before! What I talked about was how, when we arrived for a visit and before we left, he would always hug me really hard, like I was one of his own daughters. That always made me feel really special, truly like part of the family. His only son, my husband, talked about his dad’s work ethic; that is something that was certainly passed down from father to son, and to our sons now as well.
My mother-in-law found a poem that she thought described Dad very well, and I totally agree. One of my sisters-in-law made copies of it for each of us and framed it with a picture of him, the picture I was looking at this morning. I want to share the poem here, as a tribute to my father-in-law, Martin.
Dad was a quiet man, but maybe surrounded by a wife and four daughters he just couldn’t get a word in most of the time! The evening after his funeral, the whole family had a wonderful “Irish wake” of sorts where we each talked about and toasted to something that we especially remembered about Martin/Marty/Daddy/Granddaddy. What a great time of remembrance that was! We shared a few tears but more than a few laughs and heard some great stories, a few of which no one had told before! What I talked about was how, when we arrived for a visit and before we left, he would always hug me really hard, like I was one of his own daughters. That always made me feel really special, truly like part of the family. His only son, my husband, talked about his dad’s work ethic; that is something that was certainly passed down from father to son, and to our sons now as well.
My mother-in-law found a poem that she thought described Dad very well, and I totally agree. One of my sisters-in-law made copies of it for each of us and framed it with a picture of him, the picture I was looking at this morning. I want to share the poem here, as a tribute to my father-in-law, Martin.
Happy is the man who can
enjoy the small things,
the common beauties,
the little day-by-day events;
sunshine on the fields,
birds on the bough,
breakfast, dinner, supper,
the daily paper on the porch,
a friend passing by.
So many people who go
afield for enjoyment leave
it behind them at home.
-David Grayson
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