My brother-in-law, Jim, passed away suddenly Friday, Feb. 8, 2019, of a heart attack. Perhaps due to his calling as a Lutheran minister, he seemed to possess an innate ability to somehow always know exactly what people needed.

My own father died 10 years ago, and ever since on weekends when I’d call my sister, Mary, she and husband, Jim, would place me on speaker. I’d chat with Mary first. Then Jim would say, “Okay Missie, let’s talk sports.” We’d rundown football, baseball, basketball—including my beloved Zags—and then he’d chide me for missing his golf report before we’d move on to watch a game together over the phone.

After he passed, it dawned on me, all these years this routine of ours wasn’t for him. Rather, he did it for me. Because he knew it’s what I used to do with my dad.

I shared this realization with family and friends as we celebrated Jim’s life together before his funeral. Afterwards as I was heading home, one of my nieces called out to me that her husband, “Mike will call you to catch up on sports now, Aunt Melissa.” Tears welled in my eyes and I grinned in thanks.

That was Jim talking.