Papa

1993 was a big year for me. I had a baby, moved from one coast to the other, broke an engagement and mailed back the ring, found the church that would feed and love me for the next 24 years, and fell in love with the pastor's son. Mixed in with all of that change, I met the Goodmans. And by met I should elaborate that I started dating the oldest son, started hanging out at their house every Sunday after church for pasta dinner, started doing dishes "because after one visit you're not a guest anymore," and generally slowly becoming one of them.

I remember being positively mortified the first time Josh invited me over to meet his family. Here I was an 18 year old unmarried girl with 6 month old baby in tow, coming home to meet mama and daddy. It was as if I'd showed up on their doorstep, with all my overstuffed baggage. If you have ever travelled with Papa, he's a big fan of carry on. Like good parents, they scrutinized me, they asked the important questions, they reminded us of what we would face starting life out together this way. But then, they resigned themselves to the fact that we were determined and the rest is history.

One of my greatest fears in going into marriage with a child from a previous relationship, was that he wouldn't be accepted by my new spouse or his family. It was my first priority that my son be loved by those around him. I'll never forget the conversation that took place on the subject: Papa standing up and casually informing me that he wanted me to know that if I married his son, I would never have to worry that my baby would be loved by this new family. He promised that my boy would be no different than any other children that would come, that he would be loved and accepted as one of the grandkids. Man, was he good on that promise. My boy, Papa's Bambino, was the ultimate first-born grandson with all the perks that were entitled to that position in our adopted Italian family.

Everyday life, Sunday dinners, family trips, were filled with Papa's jokes and his correction that cut to the very heart of the matter. He laughed with me, he held my hand through my trials, he endured countless hours of listening to me complain and question. The encouragement he offered in my personal life, my parenting, my marriage and my ministry, has been priceless.

He taught me that men of God really do exist and they are normal and fun and love their families. He introduced me to the fancy side of Haiti and then made me ride in the back of a truck on a wooden bench that only held up half of my backside for 8 hours so I "wouldn't get the wrong idea and get spoiled." He brought me along to Thailand and sat back and watched me enjoy every second of it. Every grand baby I gave him he picked out an outfit for me to go home in so I would feel pretty in those post-partum ugly days. He laughed at how big I would get and told me how much I reminded him of Josh's mom. I loved amazing him with my knowledge in the Greek mythology category of Jeopardy. All of my favorite compliments came from him, because they were genuine and thought out. Once he strolled out to my car, hands in his pockets, about 6 years into my marriage and told me that he wasn't so sure about me in the beginning but I had turned out to be a really great daughter in law and that he was so glad I married Josh. Ha! I'll never forget. It wasn't until I had been married another couple of years that he informed me that now he was sure that I loved Josh. I passed the Goodman test and I'm so glad.

On Thursday night, when he was transitioning to his heavenly home, I was out to the movies with my two youngest kids, and out of the blue I was overwhelmed by some words that he had spoken to me years ago. He told me that day, "I understand what you're after Amber, you want your life to matter. You want it to have meant something." I don't know why I thought of that right then in the middle of the theater but I'd like to think it was his final words to me. A gentle reminder of what all my striving is really about.

So here's to all the gnocchi making Christmas Eves, the conversations laced with song lyrics, the dog jokes, the Jeopardy games, trips around the country and around the world and just a quick trip down to Weeki Wachee or Old Town. The biggest thank you in the world could not convey what your life has meant to mine, and what an influence you have been in my walk through life. I'm so glad that you got to meet your great grand daughter. Until we meet again.