For some reason I knew, the minute the phone rang, that this was the call. I knew because it was our home phone that rang, and it rarely rings anymore. I knew because my husband left the room to take it. I knew because I couldn't hear him laughing or talking. I knew because the cloud had been looming for weeks, months...maybe years. And when my husband came back to the kitchen, I knew.

His father had died.

Saturday, February 10, 2007, at approximately 3:30 p.m., my father-in-law, the man who smiles from black and white photos with a beautiful, chubby, baby boy, passed away.

I've been trying to decide how to write about this for days. It is difficult to expound on such a subject when there are many complex and confliciting emotions. And there have been many moments this past week worthy of being put down for posterity. But it would require a long and detailed description of family history, which I just don't have the heart to post for the world to see.

This is a bittersweet time. Maybe someday I can actually put it to words.