My heart is heavy.

My father-in-law, Marv, died a few weeks ago. It hurts.

Marv was a quiet, strong farmer. Not like a box of chocolates. He was like vanilla ice cream. Reliable. Predictable. Calm. Patient. Measured. And steady with love.

He taught me how to change oil, replace brake pads, and fix small engines. He was always there. Pulling us on hayrides. Helping us move into our first house. Bringing his pressure washer. Picking up wood for projects. Showing up to games with my mother-in-law, JoAnne.

At 80 years old, he carried boxes into our new house like he was 40. He’d take us to Texas Roadhouse. I knew he would help me with any project, even the tough ones.

He believed in treating people right and he lived that way.

When I asked to marry Jennie, he paused for 30 seconds. It felt like minutes. I jumped in and asked if that was a yes. He said, “No, not yet.” Then he said yes.

He made me practice patience.

I hope I practice that patience. I hope I assume the best of intentions instead of the worst. That’s what Marv did.

I will miss my project buddy.

May you rest in peace.