Papa John

What kind of a goofball would marry a guy’s sister without bothering to introduce himself to his soon-to-be brother-in-law? That alone was enough to get John Martin off on the wrong foot with me. In the years following the marriage, my skeptical impression of the man seemed to be confirmed when he rarely showed his face at family gatherings. He always had a plausible excuse for being absent, but after a while, it seemed clear that he had no real interest in getting to know me. So, why would I want to get to know him? I did see him on rare occasions. He seemed nice enough, but I just wasn’t sure that he was the caliber of guy that I had always wanted my sister to marry.

It’s funny how one’s perspective changes with time. Twenty eight years have passed since that rocky introduction. Twenty eight years have passed since John Martin eloped with my dear sister and entered the bonds of holy matrimony. Twenty eight years have made me grow to love and appreciate the man.

Thank you John for gracing my sister’s life. Thank you for taking her as your eternal companion. Thank you for being such a good dad to my nieces and nephews. Thank you for being such a fine “papa” to your daughters who aren’t your biological offspring, but get treated like they are. You’re not such a bad brother-in-law after all. (wink) I apologize for any misgiving I might have had about you all those years ago. I’m indeed thankful to count you a member of my family.