Good Ol' Bud

My father- in- law, a truly wonderful man, died recently after a long time spent alternating between assisted living and hospitalization. In his final weeks his great spirit had begun to falter, and like the sailor reaching his final port, he just gave out. "I'm so tired," he said. I took it to mean cosmically tired. I told this to my wife, who reminded me that I tend to think cosmically a lot, but this time, I was right. Two weeks later he was gone.

We waited about three weeks, maybe four until we had a memorial party at his old house, which has been for sale since he went into a home and my mother- in- law came to live with us half of every month, and with my brother- in- law the other half.

I saw all of his remaining friends and colleagues, and what was funny was that many were also my former colleagues, as I had once worked for my father- in- law and then, as his co-workers used to chide me, I married the boss's daughter. That I no longer worked with him was of little import.

Some were glad to see me, some didn't remember me, some were indifferent. All of them seemed sad about my father- in- law, and said so, in ways that really touched his family.

It was a good memorial. And a good reunion.