I rolled out of bed at 1:30 this morning to go to the plant, as you had done for so many years and we had done together far too little. I ran through the shower and had a shave to wake myself fully, then thought I'd check my e-mail and facebook right quick before I left. In its 'On This Day' reminder feature it had me remember that three years ago today you had had your surgery. Dang it facebook, you can be a jerk sometimes.
Well by then I had to read my post asking for prayers, feeling sadder every second. Then of course I had to read the comments, well over 40 by the way, of friends promising prayers and comfort. And as I read those posts I actually began to feel better. I saw how many people were in your corner wanting the best for you, even a bunch who never met you. I saw too that there was a support system in place for old Marty. That same support system that got me through the difficult months which followed.
I logged off, and grabbed CDs by Tom T. Hall and Johnny Cash. I thought they'd make good listening today. Nothing like the Storyteller and the Man in Black when out on the highway, right? We sang a couple of their songs together as the dawn broke on route 68. Then I met Mark at the Cracker Barrel for breakfast and we told each other many of the tales you told us over the years. Coming back home I took a big order which I just happened to be able to fill with the stock I had picked up from the factory.
So it's ended up a pretty good day after all. I really can't wait for the next one.
Until then, see ya Pops.
PS: I think you better whisper something to Mom. She's on a fix it kick and carries a hammer everywhere she goes. And as they say, she's eyeing every problem like it's a nail.
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