Caught part of this show today while I was making lunch for the LW and I. It was good and it made me think of my great uncle Coot. His body got hammered by multiple myeloma for a few years and it finally got him this year. Coot was, as a student of anthropology might say, mother's father's brother.

Every time he saw me, he asked whether or not I remembered cutting wood with him as a kid and how I tied a red rag on the back of the truck because he was carrying more than I thought to be safe - as if a red rag dangling from the tailgate mattered when one was driving a bright mint green colored pickup with a buttload of firewood in it down the road. It was something to him though, and it stuck with him.

Jason and I never really got to spend much time with him and aunt Dot. We lived in different parts of MS and eventually in different parts of the world. When we were little, we got to see him at christmas gatherings once a year or so at my great grandmother's house in Learned. He always greeted my brother and I enthusiastically - it was as if we were his favorite people on earth every time we saw him. When you're small, shy, and have a father who is a bit of an authoritarian, having someone look at you as if you're the best thing since sliced bread really has an impact. We heard about him, as we grew up and made families of our own, through my grandfather from time to time and kept up with him and aunt Dot that way.

Hearing that he had cancer was quite a shock. What do you do? What do you say? Is there anything really? I don't think so. All one can do is hope and that's what I did.

On June 6th of this year, he passed on into the ether. He was, as my mom always says, "a good egg". I couldn't really bring myself to send a card to the family or to aunt Dot because there's nothing really that I can say that's original other than what I have written here. I can only hope that I have the presence of mind, when dealing with the little ones in my life, to greet them with the enthusiastic "heyyyyyyyyyyyyyy" that he always gave my brother and I, listen to what they have to say, and watch for the little red rags that they hang for me.

Knowing Coot was quite a gift.