hotshot
02-16-2013, 09:51 PM
My aunt had cancer. We knew she was on death's door, but the loss is never something you plan for. She was an absolute hoot! She once received an F in gym class because she state "I can do push ups just as well as the boys". She refused to do girl push ups and thus received an F.
No one hated to lose more than her.
One time, she was playing a church softball game, and told her daughter to slide, (heavy southern Indiana accent... sounded like Slayde, slayde)....
The catch was that my cousin was 8 months pregnant, (the OB was in the stands, and gave the okay for her to play). My cousin made it to third. The two of them argued loudly that "Mom, there is no way I am sliding with your first grandchild inside me. I don't care if I was almost out".
Aunt Darla played golf well into her 70's. She refused to rent a cart since a good walk was part of the game.
She was always good for a funny story, a loud laugh, and pure fun.
Her first husband died of a heart attack years ago. They had gone to Seymore Indiana to watch the local high school play in the semi state basketball game. In Indiana this is a BIG deal! After the morning session was over, My uncle went back to the hotel because he did not feel well. Word got back to the game that someone had had a heart attack. My aunt knew right away that it was her husband.
She was single, but not slowed down for 10 years. Then the wife of one of their friends died quickly of cancer. The newly widowed husband and my aunt started spending time together..... got married. They figured, what the heck, they'd known eachother their whole life. They were great for eachother.
At the funeral service, my cousin, who I haven't seen in years, handed me a knife that was my grampa's. He had three of them, gave one to my brother, one to me, and kept one. All three had chinks out of the blade, where my grampa would clean out the grease nipples on the tractor tires so he could use the grease gun on them. My cousin had found them in an old tool box. I am the proud owner of an 75-80 year old case knife with a chipped blade.
Needs sharpening, but it is priceless.
On the 5 hour drive home, I sadly thought I might have made my last trip to Georgetown Indiana. It is a small town that seems to be frozen in my childhood. Grampa's farm is still partially ours, but the 5 hour commute is prohibitive. My dad cash rents the tillable land. The rest, (most of the farm), is pasture with limestone hills just under the surface.
I miss the farm terribly in my thoughts. My childhood was centered on the cows, the pond, the woods, the barn, and the crick.
I know I rambled, but all of these thoughts are intertwined as part of my soul.
Darla was a great woman, who made those around her better.
Cancer sucks!
No one hated to lose more than her.
One time, she was playing a church softball game, and told her daughter to slide, (heavy southern Indiana accent... sounded like Slayde, slayde)....
The catch was that my cousin was 8 months pregnant, (the OB was in the stands, and gave the okay for her to play). My cousin made it to third. The two of them argued loudly that "Mom, there is no way I am sliding with your first grandchild inside me. I don't care if I was almost out".
Aunt Darla played golf well into her 70's. She refused to rent a cart since a good walk was part of the game.
She was always good for a funny story, a loud laugh, and pure fun.
Her first husband died of a heart attack years ago. They had gone to Seymore Indiana to watch the local high school play in the semi state basketball game. In Indiana this is a BIG deal! After the morning session was over, My uncle went back to the hotel because he did not feel well. Word got back to the game that someone had had a heart attack. My aunt knew right away that it was her husband.
She was single, but not slowed down for 10 years. Then the wife of one of their friends died quickly of cancer. The newly widowed husband and my aunt started spending time together..... got married. They figured, what the heck, they'd known eachother their whole life. They were great for eachother.
At the funeral service, my cousin, who I haven't seen in years, handed me a knife that was my grampa's. He had three of them, gave one to my brother, one to me, and kept one. All three had chinks out of the blade, where my grampa would clean out the grease nipples on the tractor tires so he could use the grease gun on them. My cousin had found them in an old tool box. I am the proud owner of an 75-80 year old case knife with a chipped blade.
Needs sharpening, but it is priceless.
On the 5 hour drive home, I sadly thought I might have made my last trip to Georgetown Indiana. It is a small town that seems to be frozen in my childhood. Grampa's farm is still partially ours, but the 5 hour commute is prohibitive. My dad cash rents the tillable land. The rest, (most of the farm), is pasture with limestone hills just under the surface.
I miss the farm terribly in my thoughts. My childhood was centered on the cows, the pond, the woods, the barn, and the crick.
I know I rambled, but all of these thoughts are intertwined as part of my soul.
Darla was a great woman, who made those around her better.
Cancer sucks!