She could set her clock by Mr. King who passed her kitchen window every day, a cousin of mine told me. He would go by at exactly 8:45 in the morning and return in the opposite direction at 4:45 in the afternoon. She had never met him to speak to but knew he lived down the road and worked at the post office. Mr. King, who was several decades younger than my cousin, passed by her window like this for many years. She knew when she had not seen him for awhile that he was taking his annual two week vacation. I could tell my cousin liked this, seeing Mr. King so dependably as she drank her morning coffee and ate her two buttered cream crackers. Then it changed; suddenly no Mr. King in sight for a number of days till it prompted my cousin to ask around about him. That is how she found out that Mr. King had had a heart attack and died. My cousin was very upset about this, seemingly more upset than she'd been about the deaths of certain family members. When asked, she said it was because she had always assumed she would have been dead long before him and what a shame for someone so young to die and he must have been in good health because he never missed a day 's work. I think it was because of the role he played in her day; living alone she had come to count on him. The constant sight of him had become a kind of comfort to her.
I realized something interesting about this story...that Mr. King was being watched by someone he was totally unaware of, someone he did not know at all and yet, that someone was mourning and missing him.
Meanwhile, I am stitching away on those felt ornaments. Last night I watched
House of Cards and enjoyed
Kevin Spacey and
Robin Wright's performances very much. I don't know if it is returning but I hope so.
The many feathered quail in redwork
No comments :
Post a Comment