Spilling the tea on the gift of my father in-law

Yesterday morning, after a particularly challenging day, I woke up and almost immediately spilled my entire large mug of tea.

I took that big hot mess as a metaphor for my life, and readied myself for the glum day ahead.

But, a funny thing happened as I mopped up the spill. It led me to a treasure trove of memories and yet another reminder of how lucky I am to have landed in the weird and wonderful family I did.

I scooped up a shoebox full of pictures and set it aside before the spreading puddle of tea could penetrate the cardboard. I finished the mop job and then, although I had a million things to do, I sat down and started thumbing through the pics.

My father in-law smiled up at me and I smiled right back. He’s been gone from this earth for 18 years and can still lift my mood.

The man spent a long and distinguished career dressed in crisply ironed shirt, pocket square folded neatly in the front pocket of his suit coat, pleats down the front of his slacks.

But, when we arrived with our growing brood of his grandchildren, he cleared his schedule and met them on the living room floor. If we gave him a shirt at Christmas, he wore it the next time we saw him, no matter how goofy that shirt might be, He played real games with them, like Scrabble and Sheepshead, and silly ones he made up on the spot.

A consummate host, he kept the conversation, the wine and the laughter flowing.

More than anything, he wanted his family to be safe and happy. We called him Mr. Be Careful (a nickname his son and namesake inherited) and he devoted a large part of his adulthood plotting ways to keep his nine kids, their spouses and families, from harm.

As I thumbed through the box of pictures, my smile spread. I love the impact the people we love have on our lives even after they leave this old world.

I’d like to thank the original Grandpa Vince for showing up on a frustrating Tuesday morning in March and making me smile.