My brother-in-law, Jack Matte, died in the early-morning hours Wednesday. As I write, just before noon, just a few hours after we got the news, I’m still in that in-between place where I haven’t quite accepted that he’s gone. A couple of hours ago, I had planned to see if one of my colleagues would fill my blog space today. But as I relayed the news to friends, family and my editorial team — Patty, Jan and Tracey, who have been incredibly supportive over the last week — I realized I should take this opportunity to tell you a little bit about Jack and the life he lived. Jack was a confirmed bachelor. He didn’t have children of his own, but he was the best uncle any kid could ever want. A Boston Red Sox season ticket holder for as long as I can remember – and I’ve known him for 30 years – he stayed true to the home team through thick and thin. In recent years, he’d take his nephews, Navide (14) and Aryand (12) to games, where they took in the game from stellar seats right behind home plate. The Christmas after Kevin and I got engaged way back in 1982, Jack gave me a cookbook – a helping hand for a bride-to-be. That book is still my go-to source for tried-and-true recipes. It sits on a shelf, held together with rubber bands, alongside my newer, glitzier cookbooks, but it’s still my favorite. Jack suffered a heart attack last week. He was recovering in the hospital, expected to make a full recovery, when things took an unexpected turn for the worse Saturday afternoon. He was alert, awake, receiving visitors and watching the Bruins in the play-offs for several days before things turned. A big man with a quiet voice, Jack had a great sense of humor. And every time I hugged hello or good-bye at a family gathering, I’d notice that he had the softest beard you could imagine. I think I might have embarrassed him a bit when I commented on it one time. Easy-going and laidback best describe Jack’s personality. A nurse I met briefly early Sunday morning told me he was “charming and adorable.” Others said he was the easiest-going patient they’d treated. Early this morning, Jack slipped quietly to the other side. It’s our loss, but I believe it’s a good day for Jack. I believe friends and family who have gone before were waiting to welcome him. I believe his father, who died in 1975, was there to say, “Good to see you, son. Let me show you around.” — Lisa Matte, editor in chief