Yes, it’s Valentine’s Day, and yes, I’m alone. So why do I feel so lucky?
Dave has been away to tend to his gravely ill father, and sadly, my father-in-law, Henry Rogers (Hank), passed away on February 2nd. Dave is still there to help with things, and I’m here, back at work.
This past week, I was in Toronto to attend my father-in-law’s funeral, and I can’t begin to explain how much of a rich experience this has been for me. You see, Hank and his spouse, Dennis, have a close-knit community of friends, acquaintances, and church members. To hear people talk about their memories of Hank — his laughter, his unassuming ways, his curiosity with language, his great intellect — reminded me of how lucky I am to have been part of his life. Listening to people talk about how much Dave reminds them of Hank, even in his voice, mannerisms, and humour also helped me to gain a deeper appreciation for my husband. His father’s legacy lives on through his sons, his family, and his friends.
And then the eulogies. Dave told stories of his father that made everyone laugh…like how his father was always losing his billfold (wallet) despite the fact that it was usually in his pocket, not remembering where he parked a borrowed car and being unable to remember the the make or colour. “You’re on your own,” the lot attendant told him. He talked about how his father was a teacher, not only in his profession, but in all aspects of life. Among other things, Dave’s brother, Iain, talked about how lucky he felt because, even though they lost their father, they still have another one.
And through all of these years, Hank, Dennis, and Dave’s mom, Dorothy, always maintained a close friendship, even getting together for Christmas dinner when Iain flew from South Korea and we from the Yukon for the holidays. A comment from someone at the reception after the funeral was, “Families have squabbled and broken up over lesser things.” Love and respect for each other is what kept the family unit tight.
And on this Valentine’s Day, even though physically I am alone, I know I can pick up the phone and talk to my hunny, a luxury that not everyone has, I know, and one that I cherish. On this Valentine’s Day, I am surrounded by family on both sides who not only understand and value love and respect, but live it. On my side of the family, I have a sister and a brother, a mother and a father, nephews and a niece, and Grandma. On Dave’s side, I have Mum, a brother, and another father. It is appropriate, therefore, that I include these words that were said at the funeral:
If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. If I give all I possess to the poor and surrender my body to the flames, but have not love, I gain nothing.
Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.
Love never fails….And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love. (1 Corinthians 13:1-8a, 13)
