Each Monday morning Oli and I visit my favorite person — my father-in-law Bob.. We head over after my bigger kids have shipped off to school. We arrive just as my father-in-law is getting up. He gets situated in the kitchen, I put on his slippers, and fetch the first of many many cups of coffee for him. We chat about the weather, the kids, and catch up on what’s happening that week. I read to him and sometimes prepare his breakfast, fetch his razor or toothbrush, bundle him in his blanket or help him with some personal care and read some more. He’s 83. He’s also blind, hard of hearing, and confined to a wheelchair but none of that really defines who he is. He is a brilliant man with a sharp mind and gentle loving heart. He’s raised 5 children and has been a doting grandfather to nine (plus one great grand-daughter). While I’m there, we peruse the New York times (we LOVE the editorials), and the local paper as I fetch snacks for Oli. Life is slow but sweet over there. After a few hours, I’ll gather up a reluctant Oli and head back to my home, carrying my father-in-laws words words home in my head….carrying his wonderful presence home in my heart.