Poor Jimmy
It's a custom around here to bring food to the families of lost loved ones. I don't know why it is, but it is, and I won't question it.
So, I made some grilled chicken caesar salad and macaroni and cheese for Faith and Jim's young sister Angie, and then I made a pan of lasagna and brought it to Jim's house, down the road. He was sitting by himself, watching television, when my key hit the door. When I came in he looked at me, sighed, and said, "I wanted to be alone." I told him I'd made him something to eat, but he said he wasn't hungry. I told him that it was okay, and that I would put it in the fridge for later.
It was a large pan, and I thought he could eat on it for a week or so.
When I came back from the kitchen, I didn't leave. Something told me that Jimmy didn't need to be alone: he needed a friend. So I sat next to him on the couch and said nothing. He just stared at the floor for a minute, and then he pointed over by the front door and quietly said, "When we were little, Shady and I used to build these huge ass towers there, and when Dad would come in, he'd knock them over and cuss the hell out of us." Jim started to laugh, seeing it in his head, and then I saw him wipe his eyes. "They're both gone now." He said quietly, and I hugged him and let him cry for a while. He hugged me back, tight, and I heard him ask, "What did I do to deserve this?" I didn't answer, unsure of what to say, and I just held him.
I stayed most of the evening and didn't really want to go home. I didn't want to leave him alone.
My heart totally broke for that poor boy.
So, I made some grilled chicken caesar salad and macaroni and cheese for Faith and Jim's young sister Angie, and then I made a pan of lasagna and brought it to Jim's house, down the road. He was sitting by himself, watching television, when my key hit the door. When I came in he looked at me, sighed, and said, "I wanted to be alone." I told him I'd made him something to eat, but he said he wasn't hungry. I told him that it was okay, and that I would put it in the fridge for later.
It was a large pan, and I thought he could eat on it for a week or so.
When I came back from the kitchen, I didn't leave. Something told me that Jimmy didn't need to be alone: he needed a friend. So I sat next to him on the couch and said nothing. He just stared at the floor for a minute, and then he pointed over by the front door and quietly said, "When we were little, Shady and I used to build these huge ass towers there, and when Dad would come in, he'd knock them over and cuss the hell out of us." Jim started to laugh, seeing it in his head, and then I saw him wipe his eyes. "They're both gone now." He said quietly, and I hugged him and let him cry for a while. He hugged me back, tight, and I heard him ask, "What did I do to deserve this?" I didn't answer, unsure of what to say, and I just held him.
I stayed most of the evening and didn't really want to go home. I didn't want to leave him alone.
My heart totally broke for that poor boy.