Monday, August 3, 2015


Raining down on Death's heated earth

 Mists of souls swirl up to rebirth.

Steamy scents on senses unbound

Releasing an altruism new found.

No hate survives,

No difference abides

In the final all inundating tide.

Husband's chum since forever lies terminally ill in a local nursing home.  They shared escapades that are folk lore in our family get togethers, Husband always capping the event with a funny story of their antics.  Sidney, a.k.a. "Prunes," telephoned husband every day to chew the fat.  Husband saw to it that Prunes got property for his home across the road on Waverly Lane.

After many years at their respective jobs, each retired and took small jobs driving for a seafood business in a neighboring county.  They mutually fussed over the trucks, keeping them in good working shape and made a little money to boot.

All his life, Husband was friends with black people, playing for a while in an all black band (minus one).  He and Prunes agreed to disagree on that and never discussed the matter. Being basically good, Prunes could never shake the animosity he felt for his fellow black human being.  These things get handed down, I believe, and we did not hold that weakness against him while at the same time being a little sorry for his attitude.

Now at his most helpless state, he still makes the occasional bad joke, but also over the years has befriended some of his natural enemies by bringing them gifts to buy their favor when being unloaded in his job as a driver.  He boasted about how well they treated him. I see progress and a desire for good will.  Amen.

Sidney "Prunes" in high school,
One of three remaining amigos:
Mahon (deceased)
and Sam (Husband)

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