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Wednesday, November 5, 2014

Goodbye Jimbo

  I’d push you in jest when you had begun to use a cane. You’d act like you were going to whack me with it and we’d laugh.

  You recognized my rough edges and that made us brothers somehow. You’d come by the car lot during the workweek. Each visit you’d complain about my entry steps. I worried a little that you’d fall.

  I’d slap you on the back and tell you to stop your damn complaining and we’d chuckle.

  Sometimes I’d come down from the balcony to see you in your seat with Ruth where you always were.  We’d joke and tease until it was time for worship. I always felt the better for it.

  One day I realized that you were struggling. Life had gotten hard on a proud and tough old guy. You looked at me through those oh so sad eyes and my heart broke a little.

  I hugged you for first time ever. We both got a little misty so I slapped you on the back and made some crack and we chuckled. 

  Goodbye old friend. I suppose God’s got some entry steps too. I’m just glad you don’t have to struggle anymore.

 I suspect you’ll complain anyway … and then you guys can chuckle. 

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