Tuesday, April 1, 2014
Mr. R. was a big kid at heart and a great father-in-law. He loved Christmas and was always over the top - surrounding the tree and the whole room with presents that he expertly wrapped. After finding out that I had somehow missed out on model rockets in my youth, he spent a decade presenting me with successively bigger and bigger model rockets to build and launch. I believe the last one was over 6 feet tall and would require FAA clearance to launch had I the guts to complete it. When we got interested in astronomy, he was quick to acquire a telescope similar to mine so that we could compare viewings. Legos? How about a giant London Bridge set. Code breaking? I know now everything there is to know about codes, code machines and cyphers thanks to books sent my way. He knew everything too, thanks to the time-honored family tradition of "pre-reading" books that will be gifts. I think he saw every show on the History Channel twice and had no patience for people who weren't interested in learning or finding out something new. He loved to embellish a tale and joke around. All of his interests fed into his love of travel and the adventure he created with each trip. Although he was not a great photographapher, the stories that went with the pictures more than made up for any fuzzy photo. He shared his love of Egyptology and pyramids with my oldest son and then helped encourage that interest by corresponding back and forth with him in coded hyroglyphics. My younger son will remember his candy dish and nightime stories by the backyard fire ring. I will always picture him in his office reading with the baseball game on in the background or trying to shoot the moon in hearts. I'll never forget asking for his daughter's hand in marriage - my plans to ask had fallen through the night before thanks to an OJ Simpson white Bronco chase, so I cornered him early next morning as he poured his first cup of coffee. I laid out my case, asked permission and nervously awaited his answer, which turned out to be a rather dismissive "yeah, sure" before he turned and continued with his morning. Perfectly Mr. R. in hindsight. He will be missed, but I know a little of that spark lives on with my wife and sons - I'm happy I can recognize that in each of them.
