Phil Major

There is a photo on the front page of the windmill at the Mineola Nature Preserve this week, taken by my son, Sam, who has an album’s worth of that iconic scene.

While the windmill relates to the story about the city council requesting funds to replace the broken windmill, it carries a much deeper meaning.

After Sam’s grandmother, and my mother-in-law, passed away last week, he posted a photo and a tribute to her, noting that he had sent her many photos of windmills because she enjoyed them.

Unfortunately, her husband also died three days later. I had already written the following, and rather than rewrite, I decided to publish this one for her and do a follow up for him in the near future.

Thank you for your understanding and indulgence. And please keep my wife in your prayers; she is heart-broken.

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There may have been sweeter, kinder, gentler people on this earth than my mother-in-law; I just haven’t met them yet.

So when we lost her last week after a bout with COVID-19, the loss sent shock waves through the family. She had a quiet strength about her that we will be missing for a long time.

The stories – and the jokes – about harrowing experiences with mothers-in-law are legion, and I’m sure mostly fact-based.

But I was one of the fortunate ones.

I can understand why a mother might think that no man is really good enough for her baby girl.

But it soon became clear that she approved – she has told me as much – and we never crossed wires about anything.

I’m convinced that the lady did not have a mean bone in her body, or at least never revealed it around me.

Presenting her with her first grandchild certainly didn’t hurt my standing (and her only grandchild for around 14 years, until the next of six more came along). She loved, and doted, on all of them and enjoyed their successes.

Perhaps that grandchild helped make up for all the moving around we did, especially when it sent us farther away from them.

We did manage one stretch of 11 years that would be classified as nearby and another of around 20 years, so most of the last 40 were not too far from the farm they called home for the last 44 years.

Frankly, we’re not sure how or when they got the virus, although we know they may have let their guard down some, going out in public – not recommended for those with health challenges.

We do know that someone gave it to them, and likely that someone was not following the safety protocols that have been well-established by medical professionals to stem the tide of this deadly disease.

I should probably not say anymore. I’m angry about losing such a special couple and doubly angry at those who throw common sense and good judgment to the wind for reasons that I truly do not understand.

Some call themselves patriots and yet do the opposite of what a patriot would do – sacrificing for the greater good of the nation.

So let’s talk a little more about my in-laws, who welcomed me into the family with open arms.

Among the earliest introductions were opportunities to earn a little needed extra cash by helping out around the farm, such as 3 a.m. wake up calls to drive the crops to the grocery company dock or the farmers market in Dallas. And those Christmas family dinners with so many people and packages and so much food that you were lucky to find a little corner with any elbow room. And wadded wrapping paper wars. And Thanksgiving pickup football games.

And those late Christmas Eve games of 42 with whatever specialty coffee had found its way into my stocking (Greek and chicory come to mind).

Losing special people in your life is so very hard. Knowing that their untimely deaths might have been prevented makes it even more so.

Everyone, please do what is best to keep your loved ones safe.