Grandpa Jim

Kristin received a phone call yesterday from her mother. Her Grandpa Jim passed away Sunday night. He was 73 years old.

I still remember the first time I met Jim. It was at Kristin's college graduation. An easy-going man with a warm smile, Jim engaged me in cordial chatter, was patient as I extolled the virtues of the restaurant where we ate after the graduation ceremony, and treated me very well for my being the boyfriend of his oldest granddaughter. He had a perennial twinkle in his eye and would toss off little comments that often left me working to control myself, lest I devolve into fits of laughter.

When Kristin and I married, Jim took the entire family on a boat cruise up the Columbia River Gorge. I remember it being a beautiful, clear day. We had so much fun chatting with family, getting to know his wife Gloria, and enjoying cheesecake (I love cheesecake). He was a gracious host and enjoyed being able to share time with his family.

At our wedding reception in Portland, Jim gave the toast. I don't remember the exact words he said, but I remember them being complimentary and heart-felt. Each time we saw him, I loved to sit down, catch up on our lives, and share time with such a good man.

So in return, I'll raise my toast. To Jim. A kind, loving man who always shared with me a smile. Who raised a wonderful daughter, who I am lucky enough to call my mother-in-law. Who was always there with a smile, his quick wit and comforting arms. You will be missed.

Until we meet again.