I was born in the south. I live in the south and will die in the south. This is only a small part of the memories I share.
When I Start
to dwell on myself, my place in life, and the things (and people) in my life . . .I get severe panic attacks. Sweat rolls down my neck. My wife doesn’t say anything about this nervous habit because I told her all about this in our first year of marriage. And “that” and other personality flaws I confessed, she did not bail. What a gal.
I published a similar hub about “My Life; Lisa; and Life After Graduation,” and it played well—meaning the people who commented said that honesty was good for one’s self. Okay. That is how I will write this hub: honesty and being upfront with you. I think that when we get to the end of this venture that you and I will both be the better for the read. But as long as you feel better at the end is more important to me.
Look Carefully in This Hub
and you will NOT see one photo of yours truly. None. Na, da. Nill. Null and void. I have exhausted what stock I had of personal photos and actually, I do not have the guts to stand like a wild man while my wife shoots a few photos with her digital camera. I am too old for such things. I guess that changes a person when they reach 65—no more “burning the candle at both ends,” no more working 18-hour shifts on a set salary and trying your best to make ends meet. When I turned 65 a lot of things changed: my viewpoint of life; my viewpoint of my friend’s lives and why I have such a love for black coffee.
Innocent as it may sound, I love black coffee. I also love vanilla ice cream, but not with black coffee. You see? You haven’t read much of this hub and already I know that you wouldn’t be happy if you were me. If I were a deranged gambler, I would bet the farm on that fact with 50 to 1 odds and retire wealthy. Believe me. You would never hear tell of me. I would stay in touch with my hubber friends, but that is where I would draw the line. The rest would just be to be doing something.
Another Thing About Me
that you would hate if you were me is I love to take naps during the mid-morning hour of 10:30 a.m. to about 12 noon. There is nothing as refreshing as a good two-hour nap right after a hearty breakfast and then nap soundly and awake to a delicious lunch of cheeseburgers, fries, and even my black coffee. I mean it. I would not put anything over on you. Why do I feel like that? I still have to live with the honesty or lies.
About the nap photos. You will see one photo with a female napping and a guy on his back in what looks like to be a city park and he looks plumb tuckered-out as the rural folks were prone to say. And if there are no city ordinances in the said park, go ahead and nap, young, burned-out Millennial Guy. I never got to nap during our city park in my hometown and the reason is simple: my hometown did not have a city park. Besides my management at the newspaper would have taken a dim view of me laying on my back in daylight, in the public, napping like a Pacific Grizzly Bear in hibernation.
The Best Part of This Hub
pertains to my wife of 43 years, Pam, whom I have mentioned several times. She doesn’t have an inkling that I have been putting her in some of my hubs, but she is a good egg. She’s a good sport.
What I really love about her is her gift of creativity. She uses this gift in her flower shop where she makes floral gifts for a few people and I am not just saying this, but I do not wonder at the many customers that she has helped over the years. And if you are ever down in my neck of the United States, northwest Alabama, Hamilton to be exact, come by and see Pam and me and we will treat you to a juicy cheeseburger, fries, and you can have your choice of black coffee, water or some low-cost soda. (I did not use the term “low-cost” to make you believe that I am stingy.)
The Main Reason That You
would NOT be happy if you were me, is because I simply dread the sadness and depression that accompanies a funeral. A wedding, if you compare the various working parts, is much like a funeral, but I just want to stay on the topic.
I have not come to grasp the idea that my only daughter, Angie, left us Feb. 11, 2016 and is waiting for us in Heaven and there, I know that she is not suffering like she was when she passed away. But in her 39 years of life, she not only gave us three wonderful grandchildren, all smart as a laptop computer and in these young adults, I see parts of Angie in all three and this past Christmas Eve, I broke down emotionally, mentally as well, due to my wife and I were having one of those heart-to-heart talks. Old people do that at times.
Angie’s father-in-law passed away March 19, due to an illness that put him in the hospital. He was 73, but he was a friend of mine and his funeral is Friday, March 22, and I dread the viewing, but his son was my son-in-law, so I will do my best to be there for him. Now do you understand why you would be miserable if you were me?
Time for some black coffee. Not yet. But black coffee is pretty much what I want for my wake. With lots of stories and laughing—the things I enjoyed when I was young. And I have requested that my wife have Lynyrd Skynyrd’s “Simple Man” played in a loop because this song is my my all-time favorite.
Now time for black coffee.
March 20, 2019_____________________________________
© 2019 Kenneth Avery
Ken Avery on April 02, 2019:
My Dear Bobbie --- your words are more than appreciated. And you, I know, have an unmovable peace because you were your husband's caregiver.
I really Appreciate Your Giving Spirit.
Please Write me Anytime.
Ken Avery on April 02, 2019:
Hi, H Lax --- thank you so much for those sweet words of encouragement. I will always have a vacant place in my heart for our Angie, but what gives me peace is that I know where
she now . . .and having a great time.
Please stay in touch.
H Lax on March 21, 2019:
Ken, that was so real, and raw, and touching. My heart goes out to you for all you have lost and have had to endure in the past with your daughter and again with your friend shortly. You'll be in my thoughts and prayers.
Barbara Purvis Hunter from Florida on March 20, 2019:
Hi, I am so sorry for your loss of your daughter and now your best friend.
I can relate as my husband died in 2016 from five strokes and dementia. I was his caregiver until the last two days of his life, then he was in Hospice care. He was in such pain--until it was bitter-sweet for him to leave this earth. He was a good man.
We have to remember this is part of life and here on earth is our second stage. First we are born--stage one--we live out our lives--stage two, and when our spirit departs our bodies--we go to stage three--our Heavenly home. This is how I believe and live my life as I hold on to joy because we have so many blessing to have other family members.
I am sending prayers your ways.
Your Hub Friend,