I wanted to title this post “For the Love of Joe” but in my effort to convey how and why this piece is a companion to my Heart of the Matter post this morning, I decided “Economy of Words” was a better title. You’ll see why as you read, but as you do so, would you keep love in mind? It’s really the headline here.
My father-in-law Joe was a great guy. Yep – he was a fisherman. Snipped in above is our all-time favorite pic of him – proudly displaying his catch in Alaska many years ago. He passed away in 1999 but this giant portrait hangs in hubby’s office to help us remember Joe well.
Joe was thoughtful and kind to a fault. He and my mom-in-law Maxine were gracious despite the crazy family (mine) their son married into. Every now and then, a remembrance of Joe will pop to mind. He was famous for his snappy one-liners, always indicative of the fact that he observed plenty but felt compelled to share only bits of what he thought. He’d have a twinkle in his eye, often, that conveyed a whole host of info, but his words? Chosen with an economy-minded purpose. Never quantity.
If you’ve followed along about my mom and my book “Surviving Sue” you might have the accurate impression that my mom was – even on her best behavior days – something of a human tornado. She could be gregarious and fun, but her over-the-top antics were eye-popping to my in-laws. Especially Joe. Maxine knew how to navigate around Sue from the get-go. When Sue would get revved up, Maxine’s protective GPS would engage, and she’d retreat…to the bathroom…or any other room. Just to catch her breath. I figured that out eventually. Magical Maxine and her quick disappearing acts. But Joe? He’d sit tight and take it all in.
The hubster and I had been married for a year or two when Maxine and Joe graciously hosted a barbeque when my parents were in town (sister Lisa, too). Joe was at the grill and Sue was futzing around making a menace of herself. Loud. Bold. Annoying.
Those were the outward behaviors. Sue’s interior? By then I knew how to read her insecurity flares. Paul’s parents were educated and well-mannered. Not the down-home barstool-loving, dirty joking telling folks that were typically Sue’s “people”.
Joe didn’t need to understand the underbelly of Sue’s swirl; he saw the nervousness and rather than express annoyance, he put her to work. Before I knew it, Sue was wearing Joe’s chef’s hat and bbq apron with grill tongs in hand. Smarty pants Joe was in his favorite chaise lounge, chilling and relaxing. 😉
In one brilliant move, Joe wrangled Sue, giving her a job to do – which relieved her pent-up nervousness, while simultaneously giving himself a break. I smiled, marveling at his insight just as he crooked his finger, motioning me over to him. He gave me a kiss on the cheek first and then whispered, “Your mom needed a job to do or she was going to drive us all nuts. Love ya, girl.”
I learned a lesson that day. Joe knew Sue’s anxiety needed to be channeled, without judgment, chit-chat or ridicule. Even today when I feel provoked and want to spew aggression and frustration, I remember Joe’s ease and ability to address a problem without a verbal dust-up. Economy of words. And purpose. All deployed without fanfare. Just kindness. Well…that and self-preservation goals, I suppose.
And you might be wondering…how were the steaks? Not great…but plenty of A-1 sauce helped and no one complained.
Vicki 😊
Victoria Ponders 
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