Funny how hearing bad news takes a snapshot in your mind that time never seems to erase. There is a spot in my kitchen, where I was leaning against the sink years ago on a LAN line when my dad told me the dreaded news about my uncle Norman. To this day, I find myself with a fearful sense of déjà vu every time I happen to be leaning the same way on that sink. The crack in my dad’s voice does it I think. The situation was bad enough but hearing his pain takes a traumatic photograph. I have heard that emotion from him twice more since that day, once with papaw while I was camping. That was a little different since I was not in a comfortable zone. However I seldom smell camp fire smoke without having some sort of memory of that moment. Now it was with granny. Oddly enough and without even thinking about it, I found myself migrating to that same spot in my kitchen. Maybe for comfort, maybe just to hold me up has my knees weakened. I don’t know but regardless I was comforted by that spot. I do have other sorrowful memories cataloged in my mind. The way my mother cried while trying to walk away from aunt Barbara’s casket, haunts me every single day. I suspect this will be the case today. It is going to be so tough on her. I suppose the photos in my mind which I didn’t want, and can’t seem to erase are the ones I wouldn’t trade. At least it helps me remember them all, whenever I wish to. I know what you’re thinking, and you are right, this isn’t funny at all. Happy Birthday, Uncle Norman.
Posted on: Fri, 07 Mar 2014 12:26:49 +0000
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