I’ve been trying to write a roundup of events for 2024, but can’t seem to manage it, because the biggest loss of the year looms too large to put it on a list with anything else. We lost my father-in-law, Art this year to Parkinson’s. It’s a terrible disease, because before it takes your life it takes pieces of you away. First the physical; Art was one of those big, strapping men who rarely got sick. He retired from the Air Force National Guard as a major. He was who taught me that the weekend soldiers are some of the first called up and the last called home, depending on their specialty. After 9/11 his MOS in hazardous chemical and biological weapons got him shipped out to parts unknown. The only thing Mary, my mother-in-law, knew was it was hot and sandy. That was all he was allowed to say even to the love of his life, because his location was top secret. The uncertainty of that was so hard on her.
He got home safe and sound and eventually the trip was declassified so he could tell us where he was, but I’ll never forget those weeks of not knowing where he was, or how much danger he was in. He came back with a renewed enthusiasm for spending time with family, especially his grand daughter, our kiddo. We’d planned a trip to Disney World and Art hadn’t come with us. He wasn’t a big Disney fan, so he had some bachelor time while Mary came along. Our kiddo was still small enough to be in one of the rented strollers and it was great. Not long after that trip, he was shipped out for one of his longest deployments. He never talked to us about how much danger he had been in there, like most military personnel he told mostly funny stories about his time in the sand box, but he came back with a renewed enthusiasm for any family trip or outing. He said he regretted missing that Disney trip, which let us know without him saying it aloud that he had feared he might never get a second chance to say yes.
The first time I met my future father-in-law he was dressed like a tree and overseeing sandbag efforts at Kimmswick, Missouri. It’s a small town full of shops with an old-time feel. If you want good food and great deserts make reservations at the Blue Owl Café. But during the flood of 1993 we were all trying to keep the town safe from the river. A tall man in uniform walked into the room where the volunteers were taking a break, and he had this calm, commanding presence that went beyond rank. He was a leader in the best sense of the word. Stepping into the room he seemed to quiet the chaos and bring order just by being there. That is what a good officer does, and he was that and more.
I had no idea that I would someday marry his son and be a part of Art’s family and help make him a grandpa. I didn’t know that we’d all go to England together and walk up Glastonbury Tor together, or travel from pub to pub trying the local lager and ploughman’s lunch. Art and Mary would take us to the Florida Keys for the first time where I would fall in love with the Caribbean blue-colored water and find the first place that truly felt like home. If I could go back in time, we would travel more as a family while he was healthy and himself.
Parkinson’s took Art away in pieces. It reduced a proud, strong man to weakness. He hated it so much. He was intelligent and well read, well studied with a master’s degree in theology. He could talk philosophy, religion, and so much more at length. He never lost his temper, never got upset if you made a good point. He just discussed. He began to lose that, too. It was like a race to see what part would go next. I’ve lost people suddenly with no warning at young ages and that is awful, crushing, but watching Art disappear into the disease that was ravaging him was cruel for him and those around him. It was especially hard to watch Mary deal with it, because they were a love match until the very end. He is still the love of her life, and she is still his; nothing will change that, not even death. They are both devout Catholics, devout Christians in the best sense of the faith. Art is somewhere no longer in pain and if he has a physical body up there with the angels it is strong and healthy again. He’s up there visiting with his friends, he had so many, and waiting for Mary. Selfishly, we don’t want her to go too soon, but I know when the time comes, Art will be one of the first people she sees on the other side. Of that I have no doubt.
