Today marks 23 years since Daddy died. It does not seem like a year since I last posted about this - my life on Facebook is flying past.
I've shared so many photos of Daddy, but this year, instead, here's a funny story about that night. Although it was late in the day when he was rushed to the hospital, and Susan and I were in Texas (Lubbock and McKinney respectively), we were able to get to Morgan City to be with him. And Sarah, living in Houma, was of course there. Mother, our cousins, a few other people as well were in and out of the room.
At one point, my sisters and I were in the hall and Susan asked Sarah who a certain man was. Sarah said "that's Ralph, the organ recipient."
Susan's face was the picture of shock and horror. She said, "And he's just waiting around for Daddy to die?" It seemed like she was winding up for a real rant on the subject when Sarah realized she might not have been as clear as she could have been.
"No, he's a preacher and a friend of Daddy's. He's getting the antique pump organ that's in the garage."
I wish Daddy could have heard that story... or better yet, he was around to tell the story in that drawn out way that made you wait and really listen. I miss him a lot.