I look at Ryan and wonder how many traits and mannerisms he has that mimic his father’s.
I know very little about Jim, but yet my heart fills with warmth when I hear stories from Ryan’s childhood and how Jim treated his children’s differences as if he had been their father all of his life.
I can still see the love for him in the eyes of his widow, daughter and son. A pain and longing to be with him is something that never subsides; a heartbreak I hope I do not have to experience for years and years.
Being with his brothers when we visit Kentucky gives me a sense of just how big of a lynch pin has was to the family. He was the oldest of six children; five boys and one girl.
He loved fishing. Actually, love is a drastic understatement. Ryan brought home Jim’s tackle box soon after we moved in together in 2008. When I think of a tackle box the first thing that comes to mind is a simple, two-tiered box. I was honestly speechless when I saw this monstrosity. Jim’s tackle box was the size of a large suitcase that you would use when going away for half a months time. This “tackle box” was easily 12 tiers, filled to the brim with every bobber, lure, barb and hook you could imagine. I never knew tackle boxes came that large.
Jim occasionally spent his time smoking, drinking and playing cards. Jim was a true Kentucky boy through and through.
He enjoyed doing a lot of things in his life, but the one thing in his life that he valued the most was his wife, son and daughter. Hearing his widow talk about their first dates, their first kiss and the many, um, scenarios they found themselves in after they were married always makes me laugh . . . and blush at times. They had a true passion for one another.
His daughter, Cara, talks about him more than Ryan does. When she tells stories from her childhood about Jim, the Kentucky drawl and chin-jut always comes out in her. Mannerisms that I look forward to every time I know a story about Jim is about to be told.
From what I can tell, Cara carries more of her father in her while Ryan mimics Marsha a bit more. The story I remember the most is the one where Cara and Ryan were headed out on an errand with Jim in his truck. Jim at the wheel, Cara in the middle and Ryan in the passenger seat. Cara was a bit of a tomboy as a child and Ryan was, and still is to this very day, a bit on the “polished” side. Cara sat next to her dad with hair mussed up, smooshed under a backwards baseball hat in shorts and a t-shirt. Ryan sat up perfectly straight, ever hair in its place and clothes lying exactly where they should be. I’ve only really known the Collins kids for five years, but this paints the perfect picture for me as an insight into their childhood.
Since I was old enough to think about being married, I always wanted a mother-in-law I could relate to and have a close relationship with after I was married. Watching “Everybody Loves Raymond” will make any future daughter-in-law hope for the best with regard to a future mother-in-law. There is no doubt that I got an amazing mother-in-law in Marsha.
However, I never realized how different it would be to not know the father of your husband. I often wonder what kind of relationship Jim and I would have. From what I have gathered from conversations, I have a feeling that a combination of Cara and Ryan’s personalities make up a pretty good mixture of Jim. Friendly to every Tom, Dick and Harry, jovial and always greets you with a smile even if you’ve only left the room for a minute to grab a drink from the kitchen. I’m positive Jim and I would have gotten along famously.
I wouldn’t trade my new family for all of the money and treasures in the world. I know they are there for me no matter what scenario comes along. I know that they value Ryan and I’s marriage and relationship. I truly love the family that I married into. I hope and pray that Jim knows he’s missed every day by the ones who loved him, and the one who never got to meet him. Thanks for giving part of yourself to your children, Jim. I wouldn’t be who I am today if it weren’t for Ryan and Cara. You can truly be proud.
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