I don't know why I am writing this, but I feel that I must.
We learned early this morning that my husband's best friend, his hero, his guide, his father passed away.
A gentle, kind, worldly man who never spoke above a soft tone received his wings today and we are devastated.
My father in law was born in Northern Alabama, 1939. He grew up during a very contentious, hard time for African Americans in this country, but just his way and outlook on life you would never know it.
He joined the Air Force when he was 19 years old. Remained in service for 20 years. It was during that time that he fell in love with my precious mother in law and my husband with his two sisters came along.
My father in law loved the military, as my husband did growing up and still does. For many African Americans, the military was and still is an opportunity to become middle class families. His stories of Vietnam, death, hardship and change would keep anyone on this blog riveted. They were survival stories. His stories about taking his young family to post after post around the world was breathtaking. But whatever he did, he always put his wife and children first.
My father in law then moved to Northwestern Indiana and worked for Amoco Oil, another 20 years. The stories there were not that great, as he never liked the oil industry and it is funny that with what is going on now in the Gulf Coast, he just recently said, "the oil companies will always get away with anything because it is all about money." How ironic and how so true.
My father in law had struggled with lung cancer, when detected stage 4, two years ago. It was because of stellar health care, through the single payer of the military coupled with his health coverage from BP/Amoco that he was able to afford exploratory and new medicines. In fact, last year he even came to Detroit with the family to my mother in law's family reunion. He was much weaker, but strong, he made it.
My husband spoke to his Dad last night. As usual, they talked about the NBA playoffs with my father in law stating the Chicago Bulls need to get LeBron. And my husband talked to his Dad about his fishing trip that he planned to take next week, up to Northern Wisconsin. My husband's love of fishing, something he passed onto me, was something he treasured because his Dad taught him.
My husband is devastated now, as I, because we thought he was doing well, only to find out that he must really be important if God needed his help upstairs.
My father in law, one of the most precious persons, I ever had the privilege to know died this morning. His soft voice, stern words, loving smile and integrity will be missed, but more important his unconditional love.
My husband's Daddy earned his wings today.
R.I.P., Garland Robinson