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It is never easy saying goodbye.
But saying goodbye for the last time is one I'll never get over. We buried my uncle Gerald yesterday in Lamont, Tennessee, in the graveyard where he and his younger brother Richie had cut grass many times to make extra money as kids. Before getting to the graveyard, the processional line of cars and the hearse drove by his house where the brothers and his sons had lined up all of their tractors and trucks that said "Warren Brother Farms" on their sides as a tribute to their brother and father. His tractor, the last one he had driven, was waiting for the line as the hearse rounded the corner and his house was in view. An old friend drove Gerald's tractor and led the hearse to the graveyard. It was an amazing day of tributes and honor paid to a man so deserving of praise.
He had called me "Egghead" for years. I guess because my parents had chosen not to live on the farm as the other Warren brother's families did, as we lived in Greenbrier. Greenbrier was once the home of an egg farm/company/factory, and Gerald always found it amusing that we lived right down the street from where it once was located. Thus, "Egghead" was appropriate. It could have also been for the many times I'd busted my head over the years... I'd run into brick walls, fall onto concrete, or get knocked in the head by something or another, and the nickname just seemed to fit and stick. He'd laugh at how frustrated I'd get every time he'd call me that terrible name.
I remember every year around Christmas time, Gerald would remind me that his birthday was coming up, and that I wasn't to forget to send him a card. He'd pinch me until a bruise would come up and I'd yell and knock on him until he'd let me go. Usually, I'd be laughing so hard I couldn't do anything, but he'd make certain I'd be sending him a check with his name on it for his birthday on January 22. It would be then, I'd laugh and elbow him in his side, reminding him to send me a card, as my birthday was on the same day. He'd say, "I know, I know. Don't forget my card." I'd tell him that I prefer cash. Of all of those years, I never once sent a card. Funny enough, he didn't either. But I'd receive a call that night asking for his money... Every year.
I can't imagine my life without him in it. I didn't see him all the time because I knew he was always there. I could always count on Gerald if I wasn't able to get a hold of my dad. When I needed help this past Christmas buying gifts for other family members, I called Gerald. Of course, he said they'd all enjoy a box of rocks, but then he gave me ideas as his wife gave them to him. There's just a part of me that seems to be missing without him. You know that life doesn't go on forever, but I sure wish I could have told him how much I loved him. I know he knew because we weren't the loving kind, he and I; we were the picking, poking, and joking kind. That was our kind of loving. I know the last time I saw him, he gave me his fair share of loving. I had the bruise to prove it for a week after seeing him. It's hard letting go of someone you weren't ready to. It's even harder knowing you're saying goodbye for the final time.
Until I see you again,
Egghead
Wednesday, May 31, 2006
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