Not April Fools

Out here in the Land of the Rising Sun, tomorrow is Thursday, April 1. April Fools Day. And Holy Thursday. As the world turns to follow the sun, April 1 will propagate around the globe and eventually greet our family and friends in the U.S.


For some who read this piece, April 1 marks two momentous anniversaries: Marcia was born on April 1. Her husband, Jim, died on April 1, 1999, on another Holy Thursday.


Marcia and Jim were Mom and Dad to my wife, Kathy, and to her five siblings. They were Grandma and Grandpa and Great Grandma and Great Grandpa to a small army of subsequent generations. For this large extended (did I mention Catholic?) family, this date is far from being only April Fools Day. It is a day of intense yet conflicting memories, of joy and sadness, of light and darkness, of despair and hope, of family and love, of legacy and future promise.


Perhaps one presumes too much to blog about parents-in-law. But what better day for this well-meaning fool to rush right into that? Caution aside, I so plunge:

I recall Marcia, in both her pre- and post-stroke days, as a tenacious and insightful matriarch. Her children will validate that she didn't miss much, and never hesitated to call you out if she caught you short of her high standards. But then, those standards were usually attainable. She really just expected people to discover and rise to the upper limits of their capability, and never to settle for despicable mediocrity. That is a pretty remarkable, and rare, manifestation of motherly love.


Beyond mere remonstration, she also modeled winning habits in her own robust approach to life. Even after the devastating stroke left her fully hemiplegic, she rose to any and all challenges, meeting them square on the nose with a "so there" panache. Competitive? Oh yes, she redefined and polished that attribute! And then she passed it on to her offspring, especially to her oldest daughter. If you played Scrabble with Marcia, you'd better bring your "A" game and show no signs of weakness or trepidation, for you would see no mercy. No matter what your age. That simple board game was not for the weak of heart against this formidable lioness. Not bad practice for facing the unforgiving vicissitudes of life in the real world.


Her tenacity and competitive spirit extended to support of her offspring and their offspring. She traveled long distances to root for them in team sports. And God help the coach who would dare to slight one of her blood proteges. Clearly heard across the floor at a junior high volleyball game: "Sit next to the coach, Katie, so he'll put you in the game." And so Katie did. Then the coach did. Then Katie excelled...and went on to captain her senior varsity team in high school. Thanks for the subtle push, Marcia.


While no less robust or passionate, and certainly committed to his own high standards of excellence, Jim exuded a quieter, more subtle air. He led more by example than by word, although he could surely give you the word if need be. In my life I have known some truly great men. Jim stands tall among the very best of them.


Jim could also wax vociferous at any sporting event. No incompetent referee could escape his scrutiny and, well, "subtle" advice. But he could be gentle too. One could almost sense when he was holding something back, a man always in control of himself and the environment around him. He had malice for no one, and respect from all.


He was thrifty, a habit honed from supporting six children to adulthood in an austere fiscal era. His definition of a good golf outing would be to return with more balls than you had at the start, even if it meant roaming the bushes and water hazards interminably. (Fore!) And if one found a few extra coins on the ground, the outing was a huge success...no matter the actual score.

His courage stood out beyond all other traits. He vigorously battled colon cancer for 15 years before it finally claimed his life. No one, not even those closest to him, ever really knew how much pain he suffered, or what comforts he would forego just to be with family. No fanfare, no self-pity, no complaint, just a great man constant in his calming presence, defining loyalty and committment by action over word. A model of courage.


A person could do far worse in life than to emulate Jim, especially when beset by overwhelming odds. At the risk of sacrilege, I venture to redefine the meaning of that popular catchphrase, "WWJD". Honestly answering the "What Would Jim Do?" question will put one the right path more often than not.

I consider myself most fortunate to have known and loved, and been loved by, this remarkable man and woman whose lives crossed in such a unique way on April 1. I am further blessed to love and be loved by their firstborn daughter. And, as an only child myself, I am extremely honored and proud to share in the unconditional brotherly and sisterly love of her siblings.


So, tomorrow, whilst bobbing around on the world's largest ocean, I will simply raise my glass of tea and toast the health and continued well being of the family that Marcia and Jim sired and nurtured...and I will do so with humble gratitude and love. Cheers!