Adding to the family

A week ago Thursday morning (about 10 days ago as I write this) my phone rang about 7 a.m. and the caller ID displayed DSO's name. (As a reminder, DSO stands for "Daughter's Significant Other," which has been his role in our lives for just short of three years).

When I answered, he greeted me and wanted to make sure he had not awakened me (he had not), then asked if I had any plans for the evening. I told him that, to my knowledge, I did not, at which time he asked if I would like to meet him for dinner or a drink. I told him dinner would be fine and we made plans for a time and place.

I'm not the brightest bulb in the chandelier, but DSO and I don't chat a lot on the phone and certainly not at 7 a.m.  Neither do we make dinner plans for just the two of us. I had a pretty good idea of what he might want to talk about.

I met him that night at the appointed place and time and he was already there, about one beer down by the time I got there. We made small talk for a good 20 minutes and he discussed the menu in great detail. Just before I was about to say, "What's on your mind?," he quite nervously let me know.

He proceeded to tell me how much he loves Daughter and asked if I would give him my blessing to propose to her.

All day I had thought of how I might respond to this, and I will tell you that I have never felt as unprepared for anything in my life. Would I grill him about his intentions and his plans for the future?  Would I lecture him about the ups and downs of marriage and give him the no-rose-garden speech?

When it came my turn to talk, I went with my gut.

I thanked him for calling me and arranging our meeting. I told him he is an adult and Daughter is an adult and he needed neither her mother's nor my permission to marry her.

But I told him the fact that he would want to talk to me in advance of proposing to my one and only daughter, who is the absolute light of my life, meant a great deal to me and that most certainly he had the blessing of Wife and me.

There were many other things said but they will mostly stay between DSO and me. I will tell you, however, that it was one of the sweetest conversations I have ever had and one I'll always remember and cherish. Most importantly, the things said to me during that dinner reflect the character of the man who will be my son-in-law, the man Wife and I have prayed for since Daughter was a little girl.

Yesterday morning, the day after Thanksgiving, DSO took Daughter on a walk at one of their favorite spots in Nashville, Radnor Lake, and popped the question. A couple of hours later they returned to our house where our family, as well as DSO's parents and grandparents, and Daughter's best friend from college, were waiting to help celebrate.

We toasted them, prayed for them and had a lovely lunch together. It was one of those days where Wife's and my hearts were full.

The plans are just beginning. Mostly Daughter is still grinning and enjoying the well wishes of others.

Daughter is the sweetest girl on this planet and I say that, of course, with all sincerity and objectivity. I am putty in her hands and I make no apologies for it.

And if I can't keep her right here with me forever, well, I think DSO is well qualified to be the man of her dreams. From henceforth, until the time they become husband and wife, he shall be known in this space as FSIL -- Future-Son-In-Law.

 

Thankful

It is Thanksgiving Eve (day) and Wife has just headed out for yet another grocery store run. She did her "major" shopping days ago but there's always that last-minute stuff (her words).

We'll have nine tomorrow -- all our crew plus DIL's parents. It will be a great day and we'll have a great meal and we will have much for which to be thankful.

Thanksgiving has for years been my favorite holiday, especially in my adult life. Wife and I hosted our first Thanksgiving dinner as a married couple in 1984, with my parents and her grandmother as our guests.

We took the turkey out of the freezer -- that's right, the freezer -- after we got home from work on Wednesday and yes, that's right, Wednesday. We were young and we didn't know any better.

We were up intermittently through the night, alternately immersing the bird in hot water and defrosting it with a hairdryer. We didn't know that the cavity was stuffed with the giblets and after they fell out, I stuck a flashlight up there to make sure there wasn't anything else lurking about.

The turkey ended up being delicious and, as far as I know, nobody contracted food poisoning from that meal.

Through the years we hosted many Thanksgiving meals, combining our families and navigating through political discussions. Some 30 years later we know how to steer conversations in different directions when it needs doing.

There are always mishaps and near-disasters, but we always have a great day. Not perfect but always memorable.

And yes, always much for which to be thankful.

Stories

Blog friend Debby often says there are stories all around us. That's the source of many of her blog posts.

Like Debby, I try to keep an ear out for stories and I heard a really good one yesterday.

Our family spent the weekend at Lake Martin, a lake near Auburn, AL where all three of my offspring have gone to school, as well as DIL and DSO.  Younger Son is still there and will, God willing, graduate come spring. All the others love to return from time to time, mainly during football season.

So as I said, we were all there over the weekend, for a football game, and Wife, Daughter, DSO and I stayed at a place at the lake. Older Son and DIL were staying with friends nearby and Younger Son, of course, was at his place on campus.

We had a great time. Had dinner with friends Friday night, tailgated and attended the game Saturday, then spend a leisurely morning Sunday before heading out early Sunday afternoon.  Love having everyone together.

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All of us except Older Son and DIL had lunch together before going our separate ways Sunday. That's where I heard a great story.

There was a good crowd at the place we ate, very much an after-church crowd. There was about a 20-minute wait for a table.

There was a long bench up against a wall on a porch outside the restaurant. We were sitting there when a lady who had obviously been to church stepped out of the door to begin her wait. She looked around and saw that there were no seats so I got up and told her to please take mine.

"No, no, I won't do that. You sit back down."

"Please," I said. "Sit down."

"No, I'm going to stand right here," she said.

"Then you and I are going to just stand here together," I said with a smile, "because I'm not sitting there while you're standing."

She laughed and proceeded to tell friends around her (she seemed to know most of the people there) how this "young man" had offered her his seat.

Of course she had me in the palm of her hand right then and there. I don't get called a young man very often anymore.

She told me Bob, her husband, was in the car "trying to fool with the air conditioner," that it hadn't been working for days. Things had heated up again and it was getting to where they couldn't stand it.

Her name was Barbara and she was about to turn 80. Bob's 81. They have been married only two years, having both lost their spouses years ago. Bob was her minister, "so I knew him pretty well. Or I thought I did.

"You really get to know a person once you're married to him," she said, cocking her eyebrow a bit.

By this time she had sat down on the bench where I had been sitting, next to Daughter. DSO was standing beside me and we were all in the conversation.

Barbara had had a place on the lake for 40 years and she and Bob had just spent the weekend there. She had just put it up for sale. She hated to do it but it was time. She and Bob now live in Opelika, another nearby town, and the upkeep on two places is just too much. They have several children and a number of grandchildren between them and all had agreed it was time for her to let the place go.

(If I were one of those children or grandchildren, I would be doing everything possible to keep that lake house, but maybe there's another story there. I digress).

Bob walked up, hobbling steadily along with the help of a cane, and sat beside her and of course she immediately introduced him and told him about the young man (me) from Nashville who had offered her a seat. By this time she knew a good bit of my story too, how I had three children who had attended Auburn, and that I visited this area from time to time.

(Bob still had not gotten the AC working and was fretting about that, and Barbara told him to calm down, that they could roll down the windows on the way home and let the wind cool them off. It would be fun, she said).

And by this time space on the big bench had cleared and I had sat back down, next to Barbara. She moved over and Bob sat between us.

I asked Bob if he still pastored a church and before he could answer, Barbara said, "Oh that's a great story. Since you're sitting here you might as well hear it."

And I did, of course. Bob was ordained a Baptist minister and preached for many years, but in the early 2000s his wife got Parkinson's disease, which progressed for eight years before she died.

Midway through that, he retired to take care of her. His eyes glistened over as he spoke about her.

"I knew Jane, his first wife," Barbara said. "Lovely lady. He knew my first husband too."

Bob now fills in for two small United Methodist churches and it works out just fine, they both said.

""There's really not much difference in beliefs," he said. "They're very kind to me. I am glad to still be able to serve when I can."

Being a former Methodist and being married to a former Baptist, I know one of the traditional differences between the two is methods of baptism -- sprinkling vs. immersion. I asked Bob what he did about that, and he said he's fine with either, but it is preferred that one of his Methodist brethren take care of sprinkling if it needs to happen when he's on duty.

Younger Son poked his head out the door and motioned to us that our table was ready. I could have waited another half hour.

I told them goodbye and Barbara thanked me again for offering her my seat.

I assured her the pleasure was all mine.