I wasn’t feeling well last week so I skipped my blog, but now I have something important to say, so this week's blog is early. My FIL (Father-In-Law) passed away this weekend. He’s been unwell for a long time, but he has been doing especially poorly the past several weeks, it wasn’t unexpected. No matter how much you think you’ve prepared to lose a loved one, it doesn’t matter because when they’re gone from your life it’s still sudden and terribly painful.
This will be a story about my relationship with my FIL, since I can only share my own experience with the man. His name was Ron, and he was born in 1930-something, he was close to ninety and never thought he would live so long. I had no doubt, he was tough, I figured he would fight hard. He was the eldest of three boys and one baby sister, he was born in the middle of Tennessee and literally “dirt poor” his childhood home was a cabin with a dirt floor. He got his first job, selling newspapers, at age seven, to help support his family.
I met him when I was friends with my husband in tenth grade. My husband and I met three times before we became friends, but that’s a story for another time. When I met and became friends with my husband, I spent lots of time with him, I was happy to be out of the house. My home life was a train wreck, alcoholism, divorce, teenage rebellion, it could’ve been an after school special. My husband’s family was stable, happy, kind, and a safe haven for weary teens. His house was “the hangout” house.
The first time I heard my FIL speak, he was yelling at my husband, something about him touching his tools in the garage and not putting them back where they belonged so he couldn’t find the one he wanted. He had a terrifying yell and scared the piss out of me. My family didn’t yell, despite the dysfunction or maybe because of it they kept everything in and pretended to be fine while our family imploded. My FIL didn’t keep it in, if he was angry, you knew it.
Because he scared me so much on that first encounter, I didn’t speak to my FIL for a few years, if I saw him, I scrambled as fast as possible to get out of his way and avoid his wrath. My husband was a troublemaker, a bad-boy, and he got yelled at often. Yes, I married the tattooed, guitar playing, motorcycle riding, bad boy, but I never wanted to change him. I love my badass husband, but again, a story for another day. I found out the truth about my FIL after I started dating my husband. I was taking night school classes and my class got cancelled so I went to his house hoping to surprise him, he wasn’t there, and my MIL (Mother-In-Law) was a sweetie who invited me in to wait. Being Italian, she was always feeding everyone and when she found out I hadn’t eaten, she made me a plate of food while I waited.
As I sat at the table, eating a plate of spaghetti, my FIL came in and sat across from me, scaring me silent. As he and my MIL talked and then included me in their conversation, I found out my FIL was a very nice man. We had a great evening of delicious food and getting to know one another. My FIL told me I was the best of all my husband’s friends, and he was incredibly lucky I agreed to date him, he implied he was going to make it clear to my husband that he better not screw up and lose me. It was a turning point in our relationship.
Over the next many years, I got to know him better and was able to witness what an amazing man he was, in more ways than one. He was smart, considerate, and a pushover for kids and animals. My SIL (Sister-In-Law) had a habit of collecting more pets than she could manage, and the usual course of events was for my SIL to give her excess animals to my MIL who is like the fairytale princess Snow White with animals, she whistles and the birds land on her to get snacks. Anyway, this would cause my FIL to yell about not needing more mouths to feed. Even though he was a great provider and no longer poor his upbringing which included not enough food, left its mark.
Over the years my SIL collected cats, dogs, birds, and horses. When I met my husband, he had three horses in the barn in his backyard. Which is saying something considering we grew up in Miami, it was not common to have more than an acre of land with a barn full of horses. My in-laws ended up with her dogs and even a green wing macaw, those are the giant red parrots with blue and green wings who can talk really well. My FIL loved that bird, and it was his little buddy, it would hang out with him all the time and demand pets and scratches, even roll onto his back for belly rubs from my FIL.
My FIL built race cars and raced on the local track, back in the day. He used to tell us about the race where he knocked off the bumper of Bobby Allison’s car when they were fighting it out for first place. He loved racing and would watch all the races, especially NASCAR. He used to drag the family to the Daytona track when my husband was a kid, and he was thrilled when they opened the Miami track. He used to attend as many races as possible often buying tickets for every race at the track in Homestead.
He always had a dream of going to the Talladega NASCAR track for a race with his two brothers, like when they were piecing together race cars in the back yard as kids, he missed it. But his brothers passed away before they ever got to go. We’re considering spreading his ashes on a track, possibly Talladega.
His other love was the Miami Dolphins football team. He had season tickets from their inception until it got too expensive in the early 2000’s, he was mostly retired by then and just couldn’t justify the massive cost they charge these days. But his favorite gifts were Dolphin’s items, and his most prized possession was a Don Shula poster signed by him showing his “most winningest coach” status. The framed poster was next to his bed when he passed.
Even more than NASCAR and the Dolphin’s was his love for his family. He and my MIL were married for almost seventy years, this summer would’ve been their 70th anniversary. It’s the platinum anniversary and so rare the list usually stops at the 60th anniversary. They spent their entire lives together, with all of the triumphs and the tragedies a relationship that long can experience.
My husband worked with my FIL for many years and learned how to run a business and how not to run a business over those decades. When my husband wanted to be a rock star, my FIL didn’t tear him down, and when it didn’t happen, he was there ready to teach him a trade. My husband credits my FIL for many of his business successes and over time my FIL grew to respect my husband as a businessman. It’s a huge thing for guys to earn the respect of their father. I wouldn’t know, being a girl, and not very respected. It meant so much to my husband to learn from and work with his dad. You could always find them talking shop at any family gathering and believe me, there were a lot of those.
I was always treated with kindness and respect by my FIL, he made me feel like part of the family and he would smile and give me the best hugs whenever he saw me. He was a fantastic hugger; giant bear hugs that made you feel like he was so happy to see you. The last time I got to see him; I was able to chat with him during a moment of lucidity. He knew who I was, we exchanged ‘I love you’s’ and he gave me one last hug that was surprisingly strong for how thin and frail he had become. I will always cherish that memory.
He was also always a softie for all of the grandchildren. He had five and he loved to interact with them and he would even hold them as babies which seemed out of character for such a rough and tough guy. To me he was always a cross between John Wayne, Johnny Cash, and Elvis. If you don’t know who they are, Google it! John Wayne was the quintessential cowboy badass, Johnny Cash was an outlaw country music star, and Elvis, well he was just the coolest. My FIL had a large number of cool points in the bank.
He asked for the “NASCAR Experience” for his birthday many years in a row. He actually drove a NASCAR on a track for like thirty laps or so. We would all go to the track and watch him take those laps, I have a great photo of him in his fireproof racing suit in front of the race car with my son. My son loved the race cars, he liked the sounds and the colors from a young age. We used to have a neighbor that worked on hot rods who lived behind us when our son was little, he had a purple hot rod that could do wheelies because it was so powerful. That car cemented purple as our son's favorite color, for life.
Our son is the heir to the family and my FIL always appreciated his place in the family tree. Our son has a lot of my FIL’s traits, and he would always smile when the little mini me would emulate him. I have some nice photographs of my husband, FIL, and son, that will always be cherished.
My FIL was a great man, strong, tough, hard-working, an excellent provider, and a life-long bad ass. His memory will live on with us, and our son will never forget him. When he has his own kids, he'll tell them about the great man that was his Pop-pop. I’m not sure how my MIL is going to cope with her loss, I think it will be so hard to be without the person who’s been by her side almost her entire life. Death always makes you evaluate your own mortality.
It makes you consider if you’ve done the things you wanted to do, did you accomplish your goals? How do you want your end of life to look? Do you want a funeral? Cremation? It’s difficult and practical, painful and reassuring. I’ve made it a point to tell my loved ones I love them for most of my adult life. Do you tell the people you love how you feel? Do your friends know you love them? Have you told your kids? Don’t let any more time go by without telling them what they mean to you. We all have regrets, but don’t make one of them the missed chance to tell someone you love them. We all have an expiration date looming, make the most of your time here.
My author journey has been a lifelong goal for me, I’m so happy I finally took the leap and wrote my first book. I have no regrets about writing, except I wish I started sooner. But I don’t think I could’ve devoted my time the way I do now, and I don’t think I had enough life behind me to use the experience to color my characters and stories the same way I can now. If you want to write something, DO IT! Don’t wait any longer, always wanted to learn an art form? A musical instrument? Just do it, make your move and don’t waste any more time, we only have a small window in this life, make the most of it. Face your fear, write your story. You can do it, trust me, if I can publish a book anyone can!
As always, thank you for reading!
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