Two anecdotes will illustrate. First, his nurses. He's had three, one of whom was in her late twenties, the other two in their mid-forties. He didn't like the younger one, and neither did I. My problem with her was that she wasn't very thoughtful, or something; for instance, she checked his breathing with a stethoscope and told him, "It's a little worse than the last time I was here." He shot me a look that said, "I needed her to tell me that?" When I talked to him later he explained, "Marcy, the thing about her is that she's just not very smart."

And last night, apparently (we're home now), Kathy was watching the Miss America pageant while he dozed. When he woke up, he snapped, "Turn that crap off!" (or words to that effect.)

I absolutely love it that, in my father-in-law's view, the most important thing about a woman is her intelligence. Since that's the thing I value most about myself (and others) I feel so affirmed by this I can't even find words for it. Boy, it feels nice.

I'm starting to realize that I'm going to miss him more than I knew . . .