It reminds me of the man who lived across from my grandparents. Ok, so down the block from me. I used to play with this granddaughters and swing on their porch swing. When he was diagnosed with cancer, Mr. Whitley had a need to talk to everyone and tell them his stories. He was in the Navy and could stand talking for hours about life on the ships. A ship he was on was hit by a torpedo, and they had so many men on the ship they slept in hammocks five and six staked high. He was a good man and loved our dogs. When my grandpa was going to Lexington, Kentucky to fight for his pension, Mr. Whitley would feed our lab Mojo and let him lose to do his business. My grandma wasn't able to take care of the animals for the last years of her life. And even though he had cancer, he was a completely self-less man. I also remember the day he passed. I was visiting my grandma. My aunt went over and sat with him before the funeral home came.
I always enjoyed spending time with my grandparents and that is one thing I dearly miss about being in West Virginia. I used to sit watch TV and talk every night with them before I moved back to Huntington. When my grandma got sick, I didn't know that the last time we all sat in the livingroom would be the last. I always made sure to talk to her at 9PM evert night though. Now 3 1/2 years after she passed away, I would give anything to listen to her talk about someone I don't know or hear her call me "Karen", because after her first stroke, she always called me that and called my aunt, Sarah. Or how she always thought voicemail was like a answering machine and you could hear the person as they were recording it.
"Sarah, pick up! Caaaalllll Meeee!"
Peace & Love
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