Myron

Today is Father's Day, a day we honor and thank those special Dads. My own father is gone now and so is my "other father." My father-in-law, Myron Espeseth, died on Friday night at the age of 87. Today I went to the funeral home to see him.

He looked as fine as ever. His Stetson cowboy hat settled near his heart, where it should be. He loved ranching and was so very good at it. When I first came as a new bride to his son Myles, (oh, how he must have rolled his eyes!!) he welcomed me wholeheartedly and did his best to be patient with this city-slickin' gal. He never said a cross word to me or made me feel dumber than dirt, which we all knew I was.

Myron was, for the thirty-five years I have been a part of his family, a gentle man who worked hard, loved his family, and always did what was right. He taught me lots. I remember sitting at their kitchen table, where most everyday conversation took place, and he would tell me cattle stories, market information, and plenty of tales of days gone by. What a grand guy he was.

So on Father's Day I bid you farewell dear old Myron. I love you and, just like all the other special people in my life, will always miss you. Forever your daughter-in-law, Mary Liz.