Raising Iris & Robyn

This blog is usually a place for humorous stories, introspective thoughts on parenting, or random observations of how Iris has opened our eyes to a new world. We’ve continued to share new experiences and certainly you’d think there’d be a lot of fodder with the discovery of our second child’s gender (it’s a girl!) or a recent Stanford-Cornell NCAA college basketball matchup where we could’ve tried to convince Iris to root for each of our schools.  Unfortunately, the last couple of weeks has been dampened as we mourn the loss of Cherise’s father.  While life goes on for the rest of us, it seems appropriate to take a moment to say something about our daughter’s grandfather and the loss we all feel.  While we held a beautiful "Celebration of Life" for him last week in which many people spoke, I was a little too worried about Cherise making it through the day to really prepare something worthy of the day.  Besides, it seems like this is a more free form approach to doing it where my rambling style is likely more appreciated…

 

I suppose the anticipation of a relationship with any future father-in-law can be a bit intimidating.  Personally, as a father to Iris and soon another girl, I’m already reserving a shotgun and pit bull for my initial encounters with prospective sons-in-laws.  But my father-in-law wielded something far more powerful than firearms or canines.  You see, the man had a brain the size of Wisconsin.  I suppose I should’ve known what I was in for when I asked Cherise what her dad did for a living.  "Oh, he’s an engineer".  Hmmm.  "Electrical Engineer".  Uh oh. "Yeah, he used to write programs in assembly language and try to teach me as a kid."  Yikes!  This guy’s a nerd. I can’t wow him with my knowledge of the NBA’s top scorers.  I can’t kick back and have beer with him while watching the Orioles.  I can’t have mindless conversations about mediocre movies or pop culture.  I’m gonna have to be on my toes every time we visit.   He is going to quiz me every time I visit!

 

Well I was right–except for the beer part (fortunately, we shared a love of Guinness).  He was a nerd.  To him, Kobe Bryant was a special beef dish and the only Orioles he knew were the ones he saw through his bird-watching binoculars.  And sure enough, the elder engineer with an MBA had set his expectations high for his new son-in-law engineer with an MBA.  My decision to work for Microsoft only made things more interesting.  I love telling the story about how, when people asked me what I did at Microsoft, I would start explaining it and getting deeper and deeper until I started seeing their eyes glaze over because I was getting too technical (it’s that look that says "geez, I was only asking to be polite") and then I would stop.  That never happened with my father-in-law.  Even when he didn’t understand it, he expected me to explain it and then asked those questions that only someone with an overactive brain could muster.  I remember discussing web application security with him.  To most of you out there, this is not a fascinating topic.  But to him, he was fascinated and kept after me.  He had questions and he wanted answers.  I used to give talks on the subject to hundreds of experts at a time and I managed to hold my own.  Yet, here’s this retired sixty-something systems engineer completely stumping me.  I can remember one visit to Cherise’s parents in 2002 where, the night before our flight as Cherise packed, I was reading up on a few topics just in case.  Yes, that’s right.  I was studying for my father-in-law!  That can’t be normal.

 

Of course, as time went on, I realized that the game was best when it was played in both directions.  So, as he worked on projects, I’d start questioning why he was doing things.  And his face lit up every time–especially when I could keep up with him.  The man was a born teacher and loved explaining how things worked, especially if they were his own creations.  He had an engineer’s creative bent, whether it manifested itself in computer programs, musicial compositions, or building the perfect shelf.  No detail was too small and no clever trick was left unturned.  He loved his intellectual pursuits, if only for the sport of it.  It encouraged him to get involved in any and every project imaginable.  He may have been one of the first people in history to be busier AFTER he retired than before.  And with every effort, he was the same:  measured, methodical, and ready to share any detail on the process. 

 

That was Bob Melton.  There wasn’t a hint of pretension on the man.  He was who he was and I consider myself lucky to have known him.  And it explains so much about what I’ve loved about Cherise since the day I met her and the reason why she still challenges me and excites me in everything we do.  So much of what I value in my relationship with Cherise is a direct result of his influence.  I know I owe my father-in-law so much and I am grateful that I was able to tell him as much before he passed on.  As I look back, I’ll miss the intellectual joust.  I’ll miss the unique brand of wisdom.  But I will always take heart knowing I’ll still feel his presence in almost every thing Cherise does.