May 29: Sad goodbye

Life was a lot more fun before I answered my phone today. Before I answered my phone today, the most troublesome thing I had to deal with was Vic’s bad haircut.

April called this afternoon to tell me that her dad, Ralph (Forrest) Knudson, died suddenly on Friday night.

There aren’t very many people I’ve known longer than April, nor as well. We became friends our junior year in high school. We were college roommates for a while, threw each other bridal showers, played bridesmaids in each others’ weddings, and met each others’ babies when they were fresh and new. We even have similar birth stories—we easily draw dirty stares from women when we say we’ve both got two children but neither of us has ever been in labor (heh heh heh).

Part of what helped us become close friends was getting to know each other’s families. April’s one of six kids, so get-togethers at her house were major affairs. I remember several Saturday night parties where chaos reigned—kids running up and down the stairs, arguing over what was on the TV, teasing the dog, and teasing each other—but Pat and Ralph didn’t seem to mind a bit, and kept themselves busy by alternately getting to know us and making sure there was enough food for everyone. Ralph was especially eager to please, constantly distributing plates of snacks and checking our soda cups to see if we needed refills. We’d laugh at his earnest ways, but also thought it was kinda cool how involved a dad could be with his teenagers. I think most of us had the kind of dad that spoke to his kids’ friends only if he had to.

If I answered the phone when April’s parents called our dorm room, they would chat with me a bit before asking for her. I saw them often when we’d go home together on the weekends. And by the time Jim and April’s wedding and all its associated events came in August 1991, I considered myself one of Pat and Ralph’s kids, as they very much made me feel like part of their family.

And then something unexpected happened. They became my friends. My roommate and I threw parties, and Pat and Ralph would show up. Victor and I threw parties, and Pat and Ralph would show up. A lot of times April wasn’t even in town, but it didn’t matter because we no longer needed her to connect us. It was easy to see that these were loving, thoughtful people who truly cared about others. And a lot of times when you talk about couples like that, it’s assumed that it’s mostly the wife who sort of “directs” their efforts. Not so with Pat and Ralph. He was as much a part of their relationships with others as she was.

In recent years, Ralph would often corner my dad at our parties and ask for advice on business issues—Dad acted like he was annoyed by it, but I know he appreciated being considered an expert. And so at Dad’s memorial service two years ago, Ralph went up front and shared very kind words for the kind of man he perceived my dad to be. I remember afterward that I thanked him for speaking, but I hope he knew just how special that was for me and my sister to hear.

I’m not the only one with the Knudsons in my background. Pat and Vic’s mom went to college together and later served on some of the same school committees because their kids were close in age. Victor’s Little League coach? Ralph. Smallish world, I know.

To April, Julia, Doug, Camille, Michael, Heather, and your families, I’m so sorry. Losing your father, especially in such an unexpected way, is truly tragic. Now that I’m two years past losing my own dad, I should probably have some wise words for you. Unfortunately, they don’t exist. It just plain sucks. There is still a huge void in my life; too often I still think, “Oh, I need to tell Dad…” Time does ease the physical pain of the loss, but the hole in your heart… well, I won't lie to you: it’s probably there to stay.

It sounds trite, but it’s true: the world lost a very special person last Friday night. Ralph Knudson was incredibly kind, goofy, concerned, and thoughtful. He was someone unique, for many reasons, and will be missed tremendously. He’s been part of my life for such a long time; it’s hard to imagine the changes his absence will bring. I wish I didn’t have to find out.

--Jen