Roy J

“I will make them and the places surrounding my hill a blessing.”  Ezekiel 34:26 NIV

     If you don’t know what to do, don’t do anything.  That is the best advice I have ever been given.  It is one of those gems that hang around because it works.  My wife and I still use that to help us make decisions.  The advice giver was my father-in-law Roy, who was one of the best people I have ever met.  As of yesterday, he has been gone 11 years.  I like writing about people, so I figured that in this case I knew what to do, so here it is.

     When I met Roy, he owed me nothing.  I was just the young man who was seeking the heart of his daughter and who wanted her parents to approve of her choice.  He did not make me work for it, he trusted what he saw in his daughter. 

     He worked in the oil field over 30 years, and he was good at it.  I remember his office in the basement of their house.  It was weird he had an office because he was not in it a lot.  His hands were dirty every day. 

     His job was demanding but then he had a farm to work as well.  I grew up in Kansas City, I did not know one thing about farming.  I remember him getting the combine ready for harvest.  It seemed like he worked 40 hours a week on just that one machine.  Thinking back now to what their farm looked like, the word pristine would apply.  It was neat as a pin.  I know he and Kathleen worked very hard there and it showed. 

     The first time he met my dad, I walked into the room with my parents, headed towards him and stuck my hand out to shake his.  I remember he said “Just a minute” and walked past me to my parents.  He greeted them like he had known them his entire life and then came back to me. 

     When our daughters were old enough to go on dates it was always with some young man you may have seen eat dirt when they were in first grade.  Honestly every dad on earth has open season on young men who show up at their door.  It is our divine obligation.  Once they get older it is different, except with Roy.

     The first time I ever went to the farm he made sure to pour me a glass of orange juice for breakfast.  I took a drink and spilled it right down my shirt.  He poured me another glass.  I tried again.  Same result.  He poured more.  It was so nice of him to help keep my glass full.  I needed a different shirt by the time he finally cracked a smile.  He had a glass especially reserved for such occasions.  It had a series of nearly impossible to see holes in the design of the glass.  I found out he had soiled the shirt of boyfriends, best friends and total strangers alike and once he started laughing you were officially welcome.

     He did not make me fight for space in the picture, he made room for me.  When I met Mary she drove an old car that maybe came from the oilfield.  It even had those weird looking brackets on the side you could haul pipe with.  If you have never seen that, it was ugly.  She hated that car.  When they started looking to replace it I remember he asked my opinion.  He did not need to do so and I am sure he already knew what to do, but he included me in the process.  I have always appreciated that. 

     He was also pretty talented.  He and Kathleen could dance.  I remember watching him at our wedding.  They sort of floated around the room.  I also remember he and his brothers all pulling chairs into the middle of the dance floor.  He put a wet towel on top of his head so he could cool down from all the work.  He could also play the accordion and the piano.  You had to see it to believe it, but he used to sit at the piano and play both at the same time.  It is still some of the best polka music I have ever heard.  How often do you hear that sentence?

     He had a battle with two types of cancer at the same time.  Double the surgery, double the treatment.  Cancer sucks, but the treatment sucks just as bad.  I remember when he and Kathleen announced they were going to sell the farm and move to Hays.  That was not the easiest thing to do.  But I think he was worried that she might have ended up out there by herself and he did not want that.  I think he sold the place he loved to take care of the woman he loved.  He knew what he needed to do, so he did it.

Husbands, what are you willing to do for the woman you love?  Wives, how about you?

You cannot get too caught up in this, but have you ever thought about what you want people to know you for, after a decade?

Challenge:  For me it was trying to give my own son in law the same thing Roy gave me, room in the picture. 

Rick Claiborn