Happy Day

I have a birthday coming up. This is a milestone birthday, of sorts. I love milestones. Milestones mean that something significant has happened. I think some people think of a birthday as a millstone. This stone isn't a burden to me because, unlike a lot of people I know, I’m excited to have birthdays. Fifty nine is my stone, the last stone in the sixth decade of my life.

 

I refuse to do a reflection of my life now because I have plenty of life yet to live. I do know that I have many things to be happy about. I know I've lived life as full as needed at the time. I know I have been a loyal and helpful friend. I don't lie. I've never stolen, except that time in fourth grade when my Mother caught me and I apologized. So never mind.

 

I've grabbed life when life, at the time, didn't want to be grabbed by me. I've snagged things that should not have been snagged, but I did and I lived. My birthday means that I will have another year to go places I've never been; have experiences that are still unknown. I'm excited. I cannot wait.

Death and Texas

When someone dies in this part of Texas, in small towns where everyone knows everyone, you show your love with food and time. You get the call that a loved one has passed and you run to the grocery store and stock up on food that can be frozen, saved for later, used for another time when grief takes over and the family just doesn’t need to cook. My friend, Glynnis, lost her husband of forever on Tuesday. He died at 2:45 and I was at their home by 3:30. I went there to listen, to help grieve.

David told his forever wife and favorite daughter on Saturday to go away from the hospital and not come back. He didn't want them to see him when the time came. I don't think I would have left, but he wasn't my Husband or Daddy. He was theirs. He will be cremated and his ashes will be spread onto the lake that he loved, as it should be. David was a strong man. He was the rock for his family. He will be missed terribly, but he will be remembered forever.

Yesterday, January 17th, he and Glynnis would have been married fifty years.

David and Resa

David was a take charge man. If there was an obstacle in his path, he figured a way to take a different route. He and his wife raised their granddaughter, Resa, when her own mother was unable.

 

Resa thrived under David's wing. She excelled in high school and received a free ride scholarship to college, where she graduated with high honors. After graduation, she got a job at a large, local bank. David could not have been more proud. She was the first of their clan to go to college.

 

Then David found an obstacle that would become more difficult to overcome. He was diagnosed with incurable pancreatic cancer. The doctors gave him nine months, at the most. But he knew he would beat it.

 

But that was not the last obstacle. Three months after his diagnosis, his beloved granddaughter was arrested and convicted of embezzlement. She was sentenced to twenty months in prison. Even though David's doctors had given up, he had not. He would see Resa free again.

 

On Tuesday, at 2:35 pm, David received a call from Resa. She was to be released on Thursday. David smiled and said "I love you, Darlin'". At 2:45, David passed away.