Babydoll
Call Me a Cab
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- The Emerald City
An interesting perspective I'd not considered. And now the tears flow again. He was always my protector, unless he was my tormentor. Typical big brother. "You can't pick on her - she's my baby sister to pick on!!"Babydoll, I'm so sorry to read about your loss. From your description it sounds like Bubba was one of those people that everyone needs in their lives--supportive to a fault, and no agenda other than to enjoy each others' company whenever you were together. Surely his departure was timed to save you further grief; he knew you were coming and didn't want you to have to experience his passing. Selfless rather than selfish. Good man.
I'd been told that the hearing is the last of the senses to go, so maybe he heard me telling him off. His mouth quirked to the side a little bit, as though he was going to say "gotcha!".
My sisters and I sat with him for a few hours after he passed, holding his hands, outing him for his more egregious misdeeds. (We were never quite sure that he set the woods on fire beside our house when he was about 10, but we were able to piece enough of the multiple versions of the story he'd told to realize it was him, and not his friend, that was smoking my Dad's cigarettes and playing with matches.) Knowing that it was the last time we'd all be together in one place, we didn't want to leave him.
We were also able to poke at his numerous tattoos without him telling us to buzz off. (Incidentally, I swear one of the tattoos on his arm looked like a green alien cockroach that had survived a nuclear bomb. We got a chuckle out of that one - wondering why on earth he'd put that on his body. I really want to know the story about that one.)
It did not come as a shock to me that his celebration of life will be a party. We're having it on his birthday (wife's choice), and we are all being asked to wear Hawaiian print, or tie-dye as those were his favorites - the brighter and bolder the better.... just like his life.