My iPad had chimed, telling me I had a message. Very few people knew how to reach me on my iPad, and I talked with those few people frequently. I grabbed the iPad, and checked. It was a message from my cousin.
“He didn’t make it this time.”
He was an older cousin. One I had not even seen in 45 years. One I’d recently started to call on the phone. Not so much to renew the contact as to do what I could to help him through his own grief. His wife had died a couple of months earlier. The only person he had left was his daughter.
I sent a message back, “Sorry to hear that. But we knew it was coming.”
My cousin responded, “Yes, we did.”
There was a pause. Then she continued, “You said if I needed your help, to just ask. Well. They’re making plans for the funeral. And for his house. I’ll have to help with that.”
What else was there to say? “I’m on my way.”
I’d talked with my wife, made a hotel reservation in Atlanta, packed my one suitcase, got in my car, and started south. It was a 1600 mile drive. I couldn’t do that in one day. I couldn’t afford a plane ticket either. No planes flew to the middle of nowhere in Mississippi anyway, and I’d have needed a rental car.
I had to drive down.
“I’m on my way.” What else could I have said?
249 Words
@mysoulstears
This is Week 540 of #ThursThreads, hosted by Siobhan Muir. Please go read all the stories in this week’s #ThursThreads. They are always fun to read. And there are some great writers who show up every week.
My Soul's Tears 