Kenny
My best friend's brother died over the weekend. His death was a work-related accident, and I heard about it very early this morning.
Kenny (we never did let him lose the nickname) was my friend, too, though I've referred to him all day as Donna's brother. Kenny was about eight years younger than us, and his birth was one of the happy things I remember about third grade.
And a lot of people loved him, one of whom was my mother. Kenny came to her for a bit of tutoring, after she had retired, and they got to know each other. They saw the positive in each other pretty easily.
I'll probably write more about him some other time. Right now I'm just beginning to process the notion of a world without Kenny in it. And I don't like it, not at all.
Cross-posted from Becky Says...
Kenny (we never did let him lose the nickname) was my friend, too, though I've referred to him all day as Donna's brother. Kenny was about eight years younger than us, and his birth was one of the happy things I remember about third grade.
And a lot of people loved him, one of whom was my mother. Kenny came to her for a bit of tutoring, after she had retired, and they got to know each other. They saw the positive in each other pretty easily.
I'll probably write more about him some other time. Right now I'm just beginning to process the notion of a world without Kenny in it. And I don't like it, not at all.
Cross-posted from Becky Says...