A Good Man

In recent posts I've mentioned my pop-in-law's medical crisis.  It has now come to an end and I feel compelled to share.  Bear with me.  This is an art blog and I'll include how my artist was affected, though it seems a small thing compared to his struggle.

2014 will always be the year without spring.  Flowers bloomed, leaves appeared, and nests were filled.  We scarcely noticed.  Early tulips held no joy.  Recent irises are melancholy.  I couldn't draw spring.  I managed a few other pages.  Some held concerning objects like prescription bottles and hospital masks.  Others, though not medical, will forever be markers of the ordeal, such as the day we took my pop-in-law back to the hospital or the moment of hope at the nursing facility.

Days and weeks passed.  Improvements were fleeting.  Father and son are close, having farmed together since forever.  The growing concern weighed on my husband.  My sisters-in-law came often, but between visits relied on us for information - worrying at times from afar.  I had no desire to sketch or even cook.  We existed on a drive thru diet to and from the hospital.  We watched my pop-in-law's health sink beyond hope.  There was little comfort in food or nature or art.  I've seen other bloggers draw their loved ones in the hospital.  I couldn't.  The man in the bed was not the spirited, jovial man I had known for 30 years.  To draw him now seemed a betrayal.

Al lived a long, good life and was a man of faith.  He was a husband, father, grandpa, farmer, veteran, dancer, welder, crooner, poker player, bowler, galushki maker, and favorite uncle.  Extended family was precious to him.  He was quick-witted and had an amazing knack with one-liners.  He was ready to lend a hand or give advice.  When he offered praise, it was honest and true.  He was grateful for harvest field meals, but it took years to earn a firm compliment of my cooking.  What a day of victory that was!  I will miss our banter.

We are in process of digitizing old faculty files in my office and last week I came across a lovely comment regarding the 1941 death of the university president.  The sentiment expressed suits my pop-in-law...

My son aptly stated yesterday - It's still sad and weird, but we will be alright.  Healing will be found in each other and, to some extent for me, in sketching life continuing around us.