Sadness

We did our usual Wednesday running around and finally landed back at the house around 4:30. Granddaddy gave me a letter I had received today. At first glance he said, "I'll bet he's died." After looking at the letter I thought, "Hmm, he can't be dead because he addressed the letter to us himself, unless he was planning to be dead."

I opened the letter wondering why he had written. I hadn't talked to him or heard from him since right after Christmas. I had gotten a note in my usual Christmas card, telling me he had lost his beloved wife in February of the previous year. That was a shock to me. I had attempted to contact him with phone numbers I had before they moved into an assisted living facility, about three or four years earlier. I had no luck and was very afraid I had lost contact with him after all this time.

After a little skip tracing which I had learned on the job years ago, I decided to contact the facility directly. I was told they couldn't give me his telephone number and I understood that. They did offer to take my name and number an promised to make sure he would get it. They thought he may still be out of town for the holidays, visiting his oldest son and his wife in the North Georgia mountains.

I had decided to get and mail a sympathy card just in case I didn't get in touch with him within the next few days. I can't tell you how very difficult it is to express your condolences to someone who enjoyed a happy, wonderful life with their spouse of 60 or more years. I managed to type out (I know that's not good manners, but nothing would be sent if I couldn't type it out) a few of my feelings and had gone to the post office and mailed it.

We had not been home very long that afternoon when the phone rang and I answered to his old familiar, deep voice. He had returned home; they had given him my message and phone number and he returned my call.

He and I talked for quite a while re-hashing lots of old memories from our past that spanned an over-all period of a couple of years short of 50 years. I listened while he talked of his loss. We chatted about the good old days. I made a promise to myself I wouldn't let so much time pass between phone calls next time.

The last time I had talked with him was around five years earlier. I had not gotten my yearly Christmas card and I was very afraid something had happened to one of them. I was afraid of what my search would reveal. I had called his son's house to talk with his son. He lived next door to his parents and I knew he could give me an update. I didn't get him, but I did have a nice talk with his your high school aged son who happened to be home that night. I explained to him who I was and why I was calling. He assured me that his Granddaddy and Grandmother were indeed just fine. He couldn't explain the reason I hadn't gotten my yearly card, but he could assure me they were fine. He suggested I call them at their house maybe the next day.

I did, but I got an answering machine and decided I would just leave a message. That happened to be on a Friday before we were leaving to go out of town to help my daugher and son-in-law finish their moved to Knoxville. I was going to help my daughter finish up with putting the finishing touches on the kitchen, etc. and we were going to have a few days together before she went back to work there.

It didn't work out quite like we had planned. I fell the first night we were there as we were headed out for dinner around 8:00 that night. I had been warned plenty of times to watch that bottom step, but somehow I just didn't remember it and I fell up the step and after giving it some thought I decided perhaps I should go to the doctor and have it checked out. I found out I had broken my wrist. This stopped all our plans. It was the day before Granddaddy's birthday. I had baked a birthday cake for him. But the visit with our daughter had been shortened by the broken bone.

We returned home and I found a message on my telephone. He had gotten my message and had returned the call. I suspect his grandson had told him I had tried to get in touch with him. We enjoyed a visit over the phone then and that would be the last verbal visit we would have until January of this year.

As I opened the letter today I found a picture on the front of a memorial card and an obituary from a local newspaper. It was a write-up of his oldest son. It covered the events of his life from his days of graduating from college with an engineering degree to his jobs in the construction field where he had advanced on to supervising lots of major projects including building the hotels of a very large chain in several states. He had been a pilot of 20 years. He had constructed several large subdivisions in the area. He had done major work and continued it for many years at a large airport in the area and then moved on to another town and was working in the same line. He had an amazing and interesting work ethic. Who would be surprised. He had been raised by two good role models.

It isn't supposed to be that way. You aren't supposed to out-live your children. But he had out-lived his oldest son.

I went to my computer to find the telephone number to call him to let him know how much I was feeling his sorrow. I knew I had put the number down in my address system. But somehow I hadn't. I don't know what went wrong because I knew I had it in one of two places, but I couldn't find it in the other place either.

I went on my second skip tracing to find the telephone number. I would call the assisted living facility once again. Only they weren't using the same name. After about half an hour of figuring and refiguring I finally found the number. Apparently not because nobody answered at the number I had. I called the only other remaining number and luck would have it, someone answered.

I explained I had his number once before but somehow I had misplaced it and requested they once again take my name and number and ask him to call me when he felt up to talking.
I had figured he would be at his dinner meal around 5:00 so I waited for him to call back.
He did, about 30-45 minutes later.

He was devastated by his son's death as was to be expected. We talked for a while going from the sad times to the happier times. This was his third loss in close to four years. He had lost his oldest granddaughter in a terrible accident when a woman had hit her car while she was going to a college class with some friends. She was driving and the woman hit her head on and killed her and maybe another girl or two.

It was a life wasted. She had gotten her medical degree from another college and was working on a scholarship in forensics. She was a very bright young lady. A very good girl. She didn't deserve what happened to her. They didn't deserve what had happened to them through her loss. Sometimes life just doesn't have answers.

He was still mourning the death of his beautiful wife, now he has to deal with his oldest child's death. His son had known his health problems for around three years. Then two years ago he had been diagnosed with leukemia. He chose not to let any of his family, except his wife, know what was going on. He made her promise not to tell anyone else. That's a big burden to carry.
Even when his mom died a little over a year ago, he still wouldn't let his dad know about his health problems. In some ways you might think he was selfish not to let him know, but maybe he knew just how hard it has been on him for the last months. He didn't want to add anything else to his sadness.

This son was a fine young man. I never in all the years I knew them, did I ever hear of any problems he gave his parents. Over all he apparently was loved by many even outside his family. So much sadness.

On a lighter note he asked me if I had called the cafeteria and left the message. I had no idea what number I had called. I just called until someone answered. Anyway, they had tracked him down in the cafeteria where he was eating. Now, I'll never know whether or not it was the cafeteria, but leave it to me to do weird things.....

Again, as the last time he and I spent a while just talking about anything that came to mind.
Granddaddy picked up on the other line and talked with him, too for a while. After Granddaddy hung up he said to me, "You got a good man, kiddo!" I didn't hesitate to agree with him. I did get a good man. My kids have the best daddy. But I'm not sure he always thought he was such a good man. Forty eight years ago this same man was trying to protect me from that good man. I'm glad he's finally come across with his approval.

He and I have some history between us. This was the man who hired what he called a 'green little kid, fresh out of high school,' and it was his life's mission to take that little kid under his wing and protect her from any harm he felt was coming her way.

I was that man's secretary for over 10-11+ years, enduring his watchful eye every step of the way. He is right; we've had a great friendship for many, many years even though he scared the absolute bejeebers out of me those 10-11 years I worked for him.

I feel his pain in his losses. I also appreciate him. My protector...my daddy away from home. My friend. I really should make sure I don't put so much time in between phone calls. I shouldn't be that busy that I can't stay in touch with this friend.