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Posted By Debra Shiveley Welch
I Remember
I remember,
As I walked down the aisle,
To join my life
With that of your son’s,
You were smiling.
I remember,
When we came to visit you,
I couldn’t wait.
When we entered your home,
You would hug me tight.
I remember,
When you first saw Chris,
You cried with joy.
Cradling him in your arms,
You said, “Thank you.”
I remember,
Soft, nights on the lake,
When you and Chris would walk,
Side by side, his hand in yours,
You were laughing.
I remember,
Loving you dearly,
As if you truly were
My dad, my own father,
You are my hero.
In Loving Memory
William Martin Welch
May 13, 1918 – July 27, 2009
©2009 Debra Shiveley Welch
Posted By Debra Shiveley Welch

Fun With Granddad

This morning is not a typical Saturday. This morning I sit here, writing down my thoughts, waiting for the phone to ring; waiting to hear that William Welch has been reunited with his beloved wife, Betty; waiting to hear that his 91-year-old body has finally succumbed to the pneumonia, which has taken over his body.

Memories flash through my mind like a personal slide show: golf outings and cookouts, Christmases and Thanksgivings – a laughter-filled house in Virginia.   For 25 years, this man has been an integral part of my life, and upon his departure, a void will exist which no one can fill. My father-in-law is dying.

He always calls me his ally. Dad started the game within a few months of first meeting me. We love inventing tall tales and outlandish scenarios so that the one can support the other, even embellish the tale. We enjoy each other and like being together. Dad treats me like his own daughter, and we often joke that, if Mark and I ever divorced, Mark would have nowhere to go for the holidays.

He loves his son. Pride glows in his eyes whenever he beholds his tall, handsome, successful boy. Mark says that Dad was a great father, and that he owes so much to him.

Dad adores Christopher, and all of his other grandchildren and great-grandchildren. Tender and sweet, giving and patient, he has given our son a perfect memory of what a grandparent should be. Granddad will live in his heart forever.

So, I sit here, waiting for the phone – dreading the ring that will tell me that our time together on this earth is over. The house is quiet, our hearts heavy. An era will soon pass.




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Debra Shivel...
Central Ohio


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