11 Years

That is how long it has been since my father-in-law died. I had just gotten home from work on that St. Pat's Day. Dill was asleep on the couch and Chip was running around the house. Cool had just started a new job and wasn't going to be off until 7:00.

I had just put goulash on the stove when the phone rang. My MIL half screaming, half crying said, "FIL is dead!" I answered with, "Call 911, I will be right there!" She had called 911 and preformed CPR on him before calling. I stopped at Toyota to try and get Cool but the doors were all locked, there was not intercom AND no security guard. I contemplated throwing pebbles at the windows but didn't.

I got to MIL's and everyone was crying. He was laying in the kitchen. He had died while making french dips. The paramedics and family doctor were in the kitchen and were waiting for the coroner. My SIL and I left and went to Toyota to see if we could get Cool somehow. Luckily, when we got there, a shift was just getting off work and one of the employee's let us in. I actually ran into someone we knew and she knew where he was. I still remember the look on Cool's face. He was happy to see me. "Hey!" he said. I had to tell him his dad died. That sucked!

The next few days were a blur. Flowers, funeral homes, family, friends and closure. Cool gave the eulogy at the funeral and, let me tell you, there wasn't a dry eye in the place when he got done. Life eventually got back to normal, a new normal that is. My MIL, though she still gets mad at him for dying, has done just fine getting back to normal living and, in a sense, has enjoyed her new freedom.

So, as much as we all love St. Patrick's Day, it is bitter-sweet. We always eat rubens for supper and we always drink a toast to The Chuckster.

Wishing you all a Happy St. Patrick's Day.