Hold On To Memories (Episode 2)
Good afternoon, my Lovelies.
I hadn't intended to write a blog today, but what started out as a beautiful day for me has quickly deteriorated. And yes, I know I've used this blog title before, but on the days when the memories hit hard, this song comforts me.
I'm sure you're all asking what changed and dimmed the brightness of my day. Well, I found out a couple of hours ago that a friend and former classmate of mine passed away this morning. And though I've not spoken to him in years, it breaks my heart, all the same.
You see, his sister was one of my best friends growing up. She was actually one of my attendants at the wedding of my first marriage. Bless her heart! She was so cute waddling down the aisle at seven-ish (I think) months pregnant. But, I digress.
Her brother was possibly one of the kindest people I've ever known - in fact, their whole family just has an aura of kindness around them. I'll never forget the gentle teasing he always gave us, nor the smile that always graced his face. In fact, I rarely remember a time when he wasn't smiling.
And I'll never forget the favor he did for me one day a couple of years after we graduated. And what was that, you ask? Well, a little backstory. I wasn't one of those kids who had a car given to them when they turned sixteen. I had to borrow my parents' cars for years.
I had been working and saving for a long time when I finally felt I could take the leap and purchase a new truck. I searched and searched and did my research, but the only thing I could find that I felt I would be able to afford was a Ford Ranger. It was the cutest little truck and part of me wishes I still had it. My daddy went with me the day I bought it and drove it home for me. What's that you say? Why didn't I drive it myself?
Well, that's because it was a manual transmission and I didn't know how. You see, manual transmissions (at least at the time) were cheaper than automatics, and I was determined that even though I didn't know how to drive it, I would learn.
You can only imagine the pride that I had in knowing that I had managed to save and buy this truck, the pride I felt when I quickly learned how to drive it without stripping all the damn gears.
Well, I hadn't had it long when another car scraped it when they misjudged their backing abilities. (Should I mention that the driver of the car was my mother? Probably not, but there ya go.) Anyway, I was devastated. It wasn't bad, mostly cosmetic, but it was noticeable. I didn't have the extra to get it fixed and I didn't want to turn it in on my insurance (for obvious reasons).
A few days after it happened, Tim came into the store I was working at and he could tell I was upset. He'd seen the damage and without a word from me about how down I was about it, he came to my rescue. In his easy-going way, he smiled and said, "bring it down to the shop and I'll fix it for ya."
I told him I didn't have the extra to fix it right then, but I appreciated the offer. And instead of saying, alright, let me know when you do, he showed me once again just how kind he was. He held his hand out to me and said, "give me the keys."
My friend took my truck back to the shop he was working at, fixed it, and brought it back to me.
Then, he refused payment of any kind.
I will never forget that and I will never forget him.
My heart is hurting for my friend and her family, for his wife and children. I can only offer my love, support, and condolences, and tell them to hold on to the memories. They are precious and they give us strength when we most need it.
That is all for today, my Lovelies.
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