Dream

I dreamed this morning that we were at a camp of some kind, and it was the morning of the day to go home. As we were lying in bed before we got up, the phone rang (which it really did, this morning) and it was Robby’s dad (which also happened this morning – thankfully, the rest of this did *not* happen!!) and I was talking to him and he started to say something and couldn’t get it out, and he tried again, and I heard Mom say, “Ron? Ron!” and the phone died.
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It got me thinking. When *my* dad died, I was pretty philosophical about it, and it didn’t really *bother* me all that much (which is not to say I don’t MISS him sometimes, just that it really didn’t hit me *hard*)… but I was not very close to my dad (either physically or emotionally) and neither was my mom, and while my brother was closer than either of us, even *he* wasn’t really that close.

Whereas my father-in-law is an integral part of our family, close to and well-loved by mom-in-law, husband, children, me, siblings, siblings-in-law, nieces and nephews. When God finally *does* take him home, it will hit us all pretty hard, I think. I’m sure not in any hurry for that to happen!