When I moved from Germany to the US, I never imagined how much my life would change. I have now lived here for almost 30 years. During that time, I met my ex-husband, and although our marriage didn’t last, we share a beautiful son. But something else I gained from that relationship has been just as precious: another set of parents.My ex-in-laws adopted me as their own, and even after the divorce, they’ve treated me like their daughter.
Today, I want to tell you about Steve, my ex-father-in-law. My relationship with my own father has always been distant, so having someone like Steve in my life has been an incredible blessing. Steve is the kind of man who shows his love through acts of service.When I got married and had to sort out my immigration paperwork, Steve waited in line with me at the immigration office for hours, two very cold mornings in a row. Afterward, he took me shopping for a winter coat—something I later found out he dislikes—and never rushed me, even though he had work to do. He just patiently waited, paid for the coat, and never complained.
There are so many moments like that with Steve. Times when he’d wash my car while I was visiting inside with grandma, or when he’d show up at my house to change my air filter, replace batteries in my smoke detector, or fix a light bulb I didn’t even realize was out. He’s rescued me more times than I can count—whether it was from a flat tire, an overheated engine, or a home repair emergency. He was there when my son, Alex, broke his hand, when he got burned, and for every other emergency we faced.
Steve is suffering from dementia now, and my biggest regret is not thanking him enough for all he’s done. I’m not sure there are enough words. Watching this kind, strong man slowly slip away has been one of the hardest experiences of my life.
Once a month, my son and I spend time with him so Grandma can play bridge with her friends. Lately, Steve has become less communicative. Forming words or understanding conversations is difficult for him. But last Thursday was different. Steve was in such a good mood—he smiled, made eye contact, and even answered simple questions. For a few precious hours, it felt like I had the “old” Steve back, and it brought me so much joy to see him that way.
But as the evening wore on, he grew anxious. He kept telling me he needed to go home and tried to leave. At one point, he actually did leave without me noticing, and we found him two streets over, trying to enter a house that looked like his. The police and ambulance were already there and Steve couldn’t remember his name, didn’t know how to walk up steps, or even how to lie down. Just like that, the Steve I knew was gone again.
Even though it was a scary experience, I’m grateful for those few moments when he was “there,” when we could connect. I cherish them because they’re becoming so rare.
Steve has taught me to live in the moment and appreciate the good as it’s happening. Don’t miss it. Slow down, and soak in those little moments as they come.
Wishing you health, wealth, and most of all... happiness!
Love,