Sunday, July 4, 2010


There are two sides to every story. One of the disadvantages (and sometimes advantages) to being widowed is that you only get one side. Sure, I can blame many things on him, as he is not here to defend himself... but in moments like these when I am preparing to tell a story... I wish I had his side as well.

It was 1991. I think. If I am wrong... will my mother-in-law please tell me? That is the year that Chris' father passed away from injuries sustained in an industrial accident at work. Chris was living about 20 hours away at the time, but was essentially unattached in life. He wasn't involved in any relationship or job that tied him to where he was, and I believe due to concern over his mother, he decided to move back to his hometown.

I was not home the summer that Chris' father passed. I had decided to spend that summer living with my sister. Three of my sisters actually were living in that area and although I was technically staying with one, I spent quite a bit of time with all of them.

My oldest sister was pregnant that summer... with what would be my first nephew. I remember getting the news about my mother-in-law-to-be's husband. After I received the news I was walking around my sister's neighborhood and my mind was spinning. I kept thinking how strange it was that he was gone. Just like that. So quickly. Never could I have imagined that THAT event would begin the ball rolling to set the stage for my life.

Chris' father passed in June. By October he had moved back home.

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