Sort of a rambling here but you know me. I was sitting on my porch this week watching it rain, listening, and it sounded so beautiful. If you love rain like I do, you’re a Pluviophile like me! That’s my new word this week.
Anyway, I was sitting there thinking about a dozen things I needed to work on, but hearing and seeing the water hit the corn across the road, the fields behind us, it held my attention. As did the death of my precious Uncle Walter on Monday, a man I loved all of my 58 years. The man who was good to me, who got on to me as a child when I needed it and probably didn’t when he should have, who saved me from a dog attack I still find hard to think about, seeing him cry so hard as he got me in the house, took care of me, and bandaged me as best he could, the man who was a gentle giant. That’s how I saw him. Also the man we knew would be leaving this earth in the coming months or weeks but who took his last breath without a warning – is there ever enough time to prepare. That’s not really a question.
Before long, I am recalling memories from being small on this farm. Aunt Betty and Uncle Walter, and their boys, Randy and Robbie, lived next door, in the house that is still there. Behind it was the sandbox Uncle Walter built for me and Robbie to play in, the best one ever, just sayin’, and the lean-to playhouse out of scrap wood that was magical to us as kids. Robbie now lives across the fields too and when we were little, we spent pretty much every day playing out here in this land between us. He is five years younger than me, so as children, I always had the upper hand. He was my student when I played teacher, I never taught him anything meaningful, just bossed him around. I did try to teach him how the dryer worked by putting him in it, I wanted to see him spin. We ate blackberries that grew along the barbed wire fence, so dirty, but we didn’t care. We flew on our bikes down the farmroad way too fast. Oh, and I think I taught him how to sneak, daring him at every turn, although our Daddies probably knew everything. Robbie is lucky to have survived it all and I’m not sure whether to tell him I’m sorry or you’re welcome.
And the tree. We talked this week about our special tree. It sat in the center of where the farm road split to his house, my house, and through the fields. We’d call each other on our old landlines and say “I’ll meet you at the tree” where we’d gather after supper and play fort and climb the tree and just be kids until it got dark. I think we both miss those days, I know we both miss that tree.
Life happens. Life flies. Life changes. Mama passes away. Your Uncle Walter passes away – why does that sound so much better than the word died. I will never know but it does.
So here we sit, this man of 92 having survived a pandemic in the last years of his life, only to have cancer take him. He lived 72 years with the woman of his dreams, literally. I never saw one without the other unless Uncle Walter was in his shop tinkering on something and Aunt Betty was in the kitchen or hanging clothes on the line outside. Otherwise, they were two peas in a pod, joined at the hip, for 72 years. Wow. That’s all I can say is wow. That is a whole lifetime for sure.
As we gathered at the cemetary yesterday where a lot of my family is buried, I couldn’t help but see my Mama’s headstone on the corner next to Uncle Walter, next to where Daddy and Aunt Betty will be one day. I started thinking about her and the others being so happy to see Uncle Walter and it brought me comfort, them excited to give him a hug and tell him all about the place at which he’s arrived. To see him healed and happy and them all gathering together to wait for the rest of us.
So the sun comes up again this morning, his grave fresh from yesterday, their home quiet. No Charles Stanley on the TV station he played most often, his Bible beside his chair worn from the use, but unopened today. The lives of his sons and grandchildren and great-grandchildren, the lives of all of us, changed forever by one soul leaving this place… but leaving a part of him behind. The life of Aunt Betty especially changed. At 90, I pray she finds reassurance that her forever here is so much different than her forever there, the one that is eternal. With Uncle Walter. Hallulejah to that.
Hallelujah to that… for all of us.
Pam
I’m so sorry about your uncle. It’s so hard losing those who have been so special. 🙏❤️
Just a Crazy Girl
Yes, it is, you know as well. Thank you and I love you.
Mary
So sorry for your loss. Wonderful memories to cherish.. Payers for you and the family. 🙏
Just a Crazy Girl
Thank you so much.
Vicky Ector
That was amazing Tracy! It made me smile. Love you
Just a Crazy Girl
Thank you, love you too!
Martha Guthrie
Sorry to hear about the passing of your uncle Tracey. What wonderful memories you have, and that you shared with us. Prayers for peace and comfort for you and your family.
Lee Ferrell
I’m so sorry to hear about your uncle. Your roots are deep and I’m sure you will find peace in those memories. Your writings are beautiful. I’m sure he was proud of you.
Just a Crazy Girl
Lee, thank you so much, that means a lot to me! Have a beautiful weekend!
Deb
Such a wonderful tribute. My condolences on the loss of your Uncle. Prayers for you and your family. ♥️ Thank you for sharing!
Just a Crazy Girl
Thank you so much, Deb, I appreciate it.
Wanda
What a wonderful tribute. Did not know you were related to the Ector Family. Sorry Mitch had to leave the beach early. Prayers for all,of you❤️❤️❤️
Just a Crazy Girl
Yes, ma’am. Betty and Daddy are brother and sister. Hope to see you soon!
Louise Joyner
What a beautiful tribute Tracey and what a special family you have! I actually had flashbacks of my own reading this! It’s never easy, but knowing the reunion we have to look forward to is everything!!
Continued prayers 🙏
Love you sweet friend ❤️
ILENE BYRD
You out did yourself with this one Tracey. It could be that so many of us can relate to this wonderful man. He always had a hug when he came into the Cancer Center on Monday’s which I was glad to get. He and Betty are wonderful friends, neighbors and just plain country folks.
Just a Crazy Girl
He was a good man and I’m so sad he is gone but thankful he is not hurting anymore. Great people to have had in my life.
Anna Workman
Tracy,
What a beautiful remembrance of Walter, a cousin to me. Thanks so much for sharing the lovely
image of all that King family plus lots of branches waiting for the rest of us to get there. I am thankful to be old enough to have known Granny and Papa King and all of the original family. They were good people.
Just a Crazy Girl
Thank you, Anna, that means so much. I think they were good people too and I miss them!