Episode Details

Welcome to a new week here on the Retirement Quick Tips podcast! I'm your host, Ashley Micciche.

On the podcast this week, I'm going to do something quite different.

My father-in-law, Doug Micciche, passed away on May 22nd, after a very brief battle with cancer. I first met Doug when I was 16 years old, and for the last 24 years that I've known him, he's been a confidant and someone I love and miss deeply.

Doug was also a financial advisor in our advisory practice, and over the years, I learned from him - not just personally, but professionally as well. So I wanted to take this opportunity to share a few things about Doug - the kind of man he was, the way he inspired me, and the things he taught me.

To do that, I think we'll start at the beginning. I don't remember the first time I met Doug, but my husband and I started dating in high school, so I'm sure 16 year old me walked into his house acting like I owned the place.

Because my husband and I were high school sweethearts, I spent a lot of time at his parent's house, countless hours in the family room watching TV and movies with Doug. He and I both shared a mutual love for bad 90s action movies.

By the time my husband moved out of his parent's home, I had already spent more quality time with Doug than most daughter-in-laws get to spend with their father-in-law in a lifetime, and for that I am grateful.

One of my favorite pastimes was needling Doug, which was a tradition that continued until the end. Back in the early days, I would plop down on their couch so aggressively, I might as well have been working on my high jump, using the couch to break my fall. I would immediately look over at Doug with a sly smile, waiting for the inevitable sigh or eye roll. Eventually, after thousands of forceful couch plops, the spring broke in the exact spot where I would always sit…I still maintain I had nothing to do with that janky couch spring.

Their house had hardwood flooring on the stairs, and like a 7 year old boy, I would fly down the stairs. The pounding reverberation on the stairs irritated him to no end, so whenever I would run down the stairs he would always yell: "stampede!!" I took that as an invitation to pound my heels as loud as possible whenever I came down the stairs, just to see if I could get a stampede yell out of him.

Doug was a great listener, and I often went to him when I had a problem or needed some advice. He was always honest and a no-BS guy. He was great at telling me what I needed to hear, even if it wasn't what I wanted to hear. I could trust his advice, knowing that he always had my best intentions at heart. There was no duplicity in Doug, and I very much appreciated that about him.

Doug was one of the most selfless people I know. Anything you asked him to do, he would do it, and whether he wanted to do it or not, you really had no idea, because he cheerfully devoted himself to other people and their needs. He would give me rides to and from the airport - often picking me up in the pre-dawn hours for the early flights I habitually booked. He always joyfully helped out with school pickups for my kids, and this past year, he picked up my 4 year old, Theodore, from preschool twice a week, always first in line because he was also ridiculously and annoyingly early for EVERYTHING. He and Theoore had their routine - he would bring him some gummi worms that Theodore quickly came to expect.

Doug was so deeply authentic, genuinely interested in other people, and kind down to his core, that he made friends wherever he went. He wasn't super extraverted, but he could relate to anyone, and making new friends was a superpower he had. He made friends with parents at my kids sports games, with other grandparents at school pickup, and most stunning of all - he made friends