Brother Grandad…we miss you.

My daughter called him Brother Grandad when she was little. On trips to Mexico they would walk the beach, or he would prop her up on a fountain and hold her hand while she walked around and around. Ever patient. Always laughing. Ever thoughtful in how he interacted with her.

The man’s life is a testament to the way he loved those he cared about. When my husband was little, his mother left him. He drank too much. He was an alcoholic and she had had enough. Most men, they would leave to live on the periphery. Not this man…no. Lon Clyde Robbins dug his feet in.

He took care of himself. He set himself straight. And once he was on an upswing, he began to woo back his ex wife, his love of his life. Their second marriage was set forth in Mexico, near San Carlos. We went there once with them. He sauntered into the hotel like he owned the place. He walked outside onto a little concrete pier that looked out onto the bay. He held out his hand for his wife to take it, pulled her in close, “This is where it all rekindled. Right in this place.” Mary Anne laughed, but he was serious, in his mind this is the place where he won her back.

And he never let go.

Once he had her again, he knew to be on his best behavior. He never had another drink again. He never wavered from his commitment. His love is manifest in his family.

He died yesterday, peacefully. He had Mary Anne by his side along with his daughter, son-in-law, and one of his grandsons. The last conversation I had with him he told me he loves me and that he’s happy his son met me. Then he teased my husband and me about our new bed.

He was at peace. He knew the end was near. He knew that he is loved.


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