It was a rocky relationship right from the start.
During my first visit to the infamous Steinman family Easter celebration as a girlfriend to the family’s only son, we stayed in a hotel room across town. My future in-laws were staunch Catholics and they did not belief in cohabitation before marriage. My goal in suggesting the hotel room to Paul was to respect their views and give us a comfortable place to sleep at night.
Gilbert, Paul’s dad, tried a number of tactics to encourage us to stay at the family home, offering Paul space on the floor of the den. Naturally, I would be on the floor of the bedroom on the second floor with his younger sister. Neither of us wanted to sleep on the floor, but we appreciated his offer.
Finally Gilbert landed on the cost of the hotel room. After all, his son was a struggling college student and hotel rooms were expensive.
“Oh, don’t worry, Dad,” Paul said. “Colleen’s paying for it.”
His poor father was speechless. And I’m not sure if he was more offended by our sharing a hotel room or that a woman paid for it. It was the first clue that my relationship with my father-in-law would be challenging for both of us.
I was a modern woman, and he was a traditional man who raised seven daughters and one son. He loved all of his children, but he treated his son differently than his daughters – as many of his generation did. Clearly, I did not fit the mold he used to raise his own daughters.
When I was eight months pregnant, Paul and I traveled to Monroe for the traditional Steinman family Christmas. My mother-in-law had two lengths of ribbons with each of her grandchildren’s names and birthdates painted on small wooden characters. I wondered aloud whether the next character, my child, would be a boy or a girl.
Gilbert, who happened to passing by, piped up, “Well, of course you need to have a boy to carry on the Steinman name.”
“But my daughter’s name would also be Steinman,” I responded. “Couldn’t SHE carry on the family name?”
“Women change their names when they get married,” he said with a finality that rankled.
“Not all women do.” I was quite short with him, and he knew I was angry.
He was thrilled when my son was born just a few weeks later. I have come to appreciate how important it was to him that now another Steinman son carries his family’s name.
Over the years, Gilbert mellowed a bit. I have my sisters-in-law to thank for that. He learned to appreciate modern women in ways he probably didn’t before as his daughters pursued higher education degrees and careers, all while raising families – some as single parents.
It has taken me some time to process my father-in-law’s sudden death in January. In some ways, Paul is very much his father’s son. His sense of commitment to his family, his incredible work ethic and his sense of fairness all come from his father.
Gilbert left an enduring legacy for all of his children, his grandchildren and his great grandchildren. I was his only daughter-in-law, but I especially appreciated how he cared for his wife Dolores as she descended into the fog of Alzheimer’s. Even when it appeared she no longer recognized anyone around her, Gilbert was by her side every day that he could make it, ensuring she received the best possible care and encouraging the family to spend time with her.
I believe they are together once again in heaven, recapturing the happiness so visible in their wedding photographs. They both live on – forever – in the hearts of their children, a legacy of love and devotion.
He was, as always, a very traditional man.
Wild Grape 1984
Writer and Raconteur 