So writing helps me think, and I should be doing a MILLION things right now. Laundry. Not done. Grading papers. Not done. Folding clothes. Um...not done.
My mind is a million miles away. Make that a million and one.
My precious, precious family who is in so much agony right now. My sweet Mama who has lost her brother. My sweet cousins who are grieving for their father. My aunt grieving for her best friend. The grandbabies who will miss their grandfather. Y'all, it just breaks my heart.
Instead, I started trying to think of silly things I remember about Uncle Johnny. Random memories from the inner recesses of my mind. How is it that childhood is so hard to remember all of a sudden? I'm only thirty-something, for goodness sake.
Anyway, this memory popped in my head. Uncle Johnny lost a part of his finger while he was fixing a lawnmower years and years ago. I remember my "baby" sister being very, very small. We were at my Granny's house having been greeted by her typical, "Howdee-doo! Gimme sum shu-gar!" earlier that evening. (You must understand I am from Tennessee. I have a very southern family. And proud of it, by the way.)
I remember Uncle Johnny watching my sister sucking her finger. He leaned over and said, "Keren, you see this?" (Picture him pointing to his half gone finger.) Her eyes big as anything nodded at him. "This is what happens when you suck your finger. I sucked mine so much, I sucked it clear off. See? You better stop sucking your finger!!" I'll never forget her face. Her eyes got even bigger around, and I'm not sure how much longer she sucked on her finger.