I was on my way to my last service call of the day; I saw my route would take me close enough to go say hi to my dad. He was with his brother Carl, Carl's son Jimmy and Jimmy's son John. With all those Riley's gathered in one spot you can be sure there will be a couple of beers close by. That shouldn't be a problem after all the workday is almost done and I only have one more call to run.
I only have a 15-minute break coming so I'll have just enough time to shoot the bull and catch up. I pull my service truck in the drive and find the Riley boys just where I figured I would. After saying hello to the group, I talk to dad about my new grandson. I say to dad " Looks like you’re a great-grandfather again". " Hey Uncle Carl, she did?" I asked Carl the familiar refrain. Carl's favorite saying and he would always answer back "I'd say she did Mark".
As kids we had no idea what Uncle Carl meant when he said that, we just always got a kick out of hearing him say it and many of his other funny little quips, I guess it was a precursor to “that’s what she said”.
I remember when me and my brother Mike were in a car with Uncle Carl, seems like he was taking us to Newton Stewart, my dad's hometown. We were just little kids and a lady turn right in front of our car. Carl laid on the horn and laid out a string of obscenities that would make Rev. Wright blush. Carl with a bottle of beer in his lap turned to Mike and me and said, " if you boys hadn't been with me I woulda rolled her car up like a hot dog".
I don't know why, but the thought of that lady's car along the side of the road looking like a hot dog was the funniest thing ever to us. Hell, we still think it's funny.
I walk over to cousin Jimmy and say hi. He was born a couple of years after me and he never was very big, but he could be mean as a snake if properly riled up. He was always fun to hang out with; he had a lot of his dad’s personality and sense of humor.
I walk over to Jimmy's son John, named after his great-grandfather, though most people called him Shorty. I remembered him as a kid, but he grew up before I knew it. A great kid by all accounts, but he liked to drive too fast. All four of those guys were shorter than me, even my dad.
I do a quick headcount like I always do. There were four Riley's here and with me there are five and there are only two Beers. That math just won't add up.
It was almost twenty years ago when we brought dad here. We got a smile out of the fact that just across the little gravel drive here in the cemetery there were two gravestones with the family name BEERS on them. We would say, well at least dad will always have a couple of beers nearby. Dad always liked his beer. That was in early 92, His younger brother Carl joined dad five years later. They both died too young, dad passed from liver cancer, Carl had a heart attack.
At Uncle Carl's showing and funeral Jimmy was inconsolable, he spent most of the time in the parking lot slamming beers. I remember him saying, " dad did it his way, he didn't want to go to no damn doctor". I thought "damn Jimmy with our family's history of hypertension and heart disease, maybe he would still be on the right side of the dirt if he had".
Jimmy just couldn't take the pain of losing his dad.
I remember at my dad's funeral, I had just given the eulogy and Jimmy came up to me. He was crying so hard I couldn't understand a word. That tough kid had a real tender side when it came to family. Sadly it would only get worse for my cousin. In "03" his 23 year old son "Shorty" was tragically killed in an auto accident. He would join my dad and his grandfather Carl here just a couple feet away.
Jimmy had more then be could bear and just one year later he joined his son, father and Uncle Farrell here in the growing family plot. Jimmy died of a heart attack, I don't know if he, like his father, shunned doctors, or just died of a broken heart, but he is here with the rest of the Riley boys now.
I look at my watch, last break is just about over. I'm ok if I just stand here and watch them all, but when I speak out loud to them my vision starts to blur. I still have one more call to run so I try to regain my composure.
I say my goodbyes to the Riley's and to the Beers.
"Sorry fella's I gotta run, I can't stay, I got fish to catch and grandkids to spoil, but I’ll be back to visit soon".
And someday, not anytime too soon, but someday, maybe I'll come back to stay, after I run my last call. ,
7 comments:
This is beautiful.
I'd comment more but my eyes are blurry.
(came here from Joe's.)
Thanks Jean, glad you stopped by, I was just reading Joe's blog and clicked on the link and it shot me back to my blog, I thought I hit the wrong key, I need to go thank him. come back soon.
Joe sent me.
Glad he did.
Nice mental flip in the middle.
Did your dad write (like you and Rita)?
Thanks Ed
No, dad wasn't a writer he worked on cars and drank his beer. He liked to cook, but he didn't like to clean up his mess, damn good cook though,
This was your way to get back at me for making you cry in your dream the other night wasn't it. That's a hard one to read.
And the odd thing was that I first thought you were relating an old story, then I thought you were talking about some dream with a typo for the capitalized Beer. I was already "blurry eyed" like Jean, even before I realized you were talking about the cemetary.
I'm so glad they decided to put Carl, Jimmy and John there too. Just that little non-decript cemetary, no fancy buildings or ornate gravestones. Just a little plain site where they all would feel like home. With a handy Beer or two.
yeah, its a peaceful place, Im glad I stopped by. Just standing there with them all within just a few feet is a little haunting when you think about them all there and look at the years of there passing and put together the sequence of how they all ended up there together, I dont know why I took the picture, I just felt like I might want to write something about it. on the way to the call, i started writing this in my head. and now you know the rest of the story, :-)
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