Hello,
On Tuesday evening, Tammy received a phone call from hospice with the news we had been expecting - her eighty-nine-year-old father had lost his battle with brain cancer. Although the news was not unexpected, it still caused deep grief and sadness in the house. Our family knew that his suffering was over, but the loss of a loved one was never easy to bear.
Tammy's mother (MIL) was heartbroken to hear that her fifty-five-year marriage had come to an end with "death do us part." She tried to be strong while we settled the details with the funeral home, but upon identifying her husband's remains, she broke down again. We did not let mother-in-law go through this trial alone; I fetched her rolling chair from the truck as Tammy offered a shoulder to cry on.
Ronald L. Davis, Tammy's father, was a kind, generous man with a unique personality. He loved to sing melodies with made-up words as he drummed on his recliner to music that only played in his head and then he watched the birds come to his feeder, which he always kept full.
Over the past twenty years of sharing our home with Pop and MIL, he did his part by helping around the house. He loved cutting their two acres of grass, and even though he never had a straight line in any of his cuts, he mowed down every blade of grass. I think his enjoyment of the mower stemmed from the enjoyment of the quiet solitude of thoughts while riding the lawn tractor. Nothing could be heard over the engine and the spinning blades except the thoughts of the driver.
I first met him in 1975 at a Howard Johnson in our hometown but never called him Pop until I married his daughter. I brought her home from our first date as he was cooking breakfast, not a good start to our relationship. Then she had me over for dinner. While tending the chicken over the charcoal grill, he cracked a dad joke and we became friends over corny jokes.
We always shared a beer or two whenever we got together. That is until I married his daughter. He indulged quite heavily that night to the point that many comments flowed over the next thirty years regarding his antics on the dance floor. After the ceremony, his daughter moved in with me, and then he stopped drinking. My wife claimed that it was just a coincidence and I knew not to argue with her.
We will miss him dearly, and his absence will be felt for a long time to come. May God hold him with comfort in his loving arms and bring peace to our family in this time of mourning.
I edited my next fantasy on Monday and Tuesday. The only writing accomplished since then is this blog about a kind old man who passed away this week.
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God bless,
Danny Mac