Tuesday – The Scaperat

Today on my drive into work, I was thinking about the phone call I made to my cousin's, husband the evening after her death. He and I spoke for almost an hour, much to my surprise. I have only met him a couple times, and on both of those occasions we spoke a total of 4 words to each other. This wasn't because we disliked each other, but because he is a man of few words and Leslie was a woman of so many. When we met, Wren and I nodded and said "hi" to each other after Leslie introduced us, and that was it. Since she always did most of the talking, no further words were necessary or possible between her husband and me. According to Leslie, Wren likes me quite a bit, and considers me the least crazy of all her extended family. She told me she would always read the letters I wrote her out loud to him, and that they would both laugh at them until they cried. I had a hard time picturing this big, burly, quite truck driving laughing out loud like that, but I suppose some people are different behind closed doors than they are in front of strangers.

( A Death in A Small Town, and A Little Sacrifice )