Stay Sweet

Last month I flew to Florida to attend the funeral of my ex-mother-in-law.  I have not been married to her son since 1986 or so, but I have stayed in touch with her and her husband since the day I met them.  Some years we sent many letters and a Christmas gift.  Other years, only a letter here and there, and a card at Christmas.  I rarely saw them after the divorce.  Until the funeral, I had not been back to the farm since the separation.  But Jean and Claud came to Colorado a few times, and we always got together. I loved them.

Yesterday, a month and a half after Jean's death, Claud died.  He had experienced two strokes this year, and they had left him with pretty serious dementia.  As long as I knew him, he was a good and kind man.  It appeared that the stroke purified him even more, leaving him in a state of easy happiness.  While spending time with him after Jean's funeral, I would look at him, and he would mumble something unintelligible to me.  I would respond with "It sure is!" and then we would laugh.  We don't always have to understand another's language in order to share love and happiness.

As I hugged Claud goodbye last month, he said something he has said often:  "Stay sweet."

Okay, Claud, I will do my best.  I promise.

Claud and Jean with my daughter at two weeks old