Edward (Wally) Wallace

Today I am grateful for Edward (Wally) Wallace, my son’s father-in-law and our friend, who died sometime during the night after a ten-month struggle.

Some of you might remember my gratitude post about “prayer” a while back.  I thank you for your comments and for keeping Wally, his wife Joan, my daughter-in-law Karen, my son, Patrick and the rest of the family in your thoughts and prayers.  The prayers were answered, though not in the way we had hoped.  But peace in any form is welcome after long months of uncertainty, pain and suffering.  Thank you.

Wally was one of a kind.  Each time there was an event at our son’s house I looked forward to Wally and Joan being there, but not just for me, for my husband, John.  John and Wally had a special bond.  Both men of a certain age, they shared similar ideas, morals and opinions, as well as an unnatural love of all sports.  I say it’s unnatural, they thought it was normal.  One of them would bring up some old baseball player from an obscure team and the other would talk about “the” game that launched or killed the guys career.  It was the same in football, hockey and nose picking.  They just remembered.  And shared, to the rolled eyeballs of Joan and me.

The four of us had so much fun at Grandparent’s Days for our shared grand’s, that there were times we thought we might be kicked out for laughing too much.  We got the “look” from Bella more than once.  More often than not, we’d leave the school, go for lunch and take in a movie.  It was natural.  It was easy.   It was fun.

The last time we saw Wally, less than a week before his latest surgery, we had a wonderful conversation about which movies he should catch up on and which not to bother with.  That led to discussions on books and authors and why we like them and if we’ve read them.  I’m so glad we had that day.  I cherish the memory.

I can still see Wally’s eyes light up each time when I’d say “Hey Wally.  Howzit going?”  He was always glad to see you, especially that last time, in his new house, with his recliner pushed back, his tables stacked with stuff, pretzel crumbs in his lap, the remote control in his hand and the TV tuned to a Phillies pre-season game. 

Wally loved my son.  What’s not to love about a man who loves your kid?  I love Wally. I’m grateful I got to know him and will be honored to keep his memory alive forever with our shared grandkids.  Wally will not be forgotten.  Ever.  Not in a million baseball/football seasons.