I think from time to time what he would have to say about the new things going on around here. I know how proud he would be/ is of the kids. He was such a great "band parent" he would be tickled that Shelby is on the drum line at the high school, and John is entering percussion at the middle school.
I am waiting to hear from him today... last year on this day we found an enameled RN pin in the handicapped spot at "our restaurant," the Red Lobster. What will it be this year? :)
Love,
Stephanie
Now, Jimmy's essay:
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A Smoke with Andy
I'm not sure if you guys have these sorts of thoughts, but I have been recently.
It's hard to get these particular stories across to non-smokers, but I'll do my best.
This sounds very odd to most people, but I have always enjoyed smoking. Most of my family at one time or another has smoked. I therefore find it to be somewhat of a comfort thing, and I flat out like to do it.
After my first year in college, I started smoking, much to my mothers dismay. Mom never allowed me to smoke at home, but Andy understood, so he and I retired to the garage, 3, 4, 5, 6, 10, 20 times a day for a smoke and a chat. I cannot describe to you the amount of satisfaction that it gave me to go outside and poison myself with Andy. We'd be working on some project (usually on what ever piece of junk i was driving at the time) and the best part of that was finishing up and having a smoke with Andy.
Whenever I go back to Mom's house, I always pick up a pack of smokes at 7-11, and a Diet Dr Pepper, and even today, I still step out in the garage often and I have a smoke with "Andy."
I like to think he's listening to me the best there, and i can close my eyes and hear him say "Uh-huh" like he always did when I ran at the mouth (usually). He didn't call me Motor Mouth for nothing.
That was one of the great things about smoking with Andy, he was always willing to go have one, and he always listened to me, even if i was prattling on about stupid things. He sat there and listened intently, smiling as he smoked.
A story that goes along with this one occurs to me. When Andy was first out of the hospital about a year ago, Mom had me help her get him up and outside to sit in the sun for a bit. He was under doctors orders not to be using tobacco, but he and I figured that a couple smokes couldn't hurt. I had with me, as usual, a pack of smokes and a bottle of soda. After some strict admonishments from my from my mom to NOT smoke, she went back inside and Andy and I had the garage to ourselves.
I leaned over to him and said "Look, this is what we can do. I'll light this up, take a drag, and pass it to you, you take a couple drags, then pass it back. We'll pass it back and forth till its gone and light another. Mom is CERTAIN to smell this on your breath, so you take some drinks out of my Diet Dr Pepper and that should kill the smell enough to pull this off."
Grinning like a couple of teenagers smoking behind the barn, Andy and i shared three cigarettes. He didn't even have a problem with that diet soda. In fact, I think Andy would have drunk half a bottle of Pine-Sol if he figured he could get a smoke out of it by that time. :)
Even though we were "Bad," I thank God often that we had that chance to have a couple smokes together. :)
I miss him so much sometimes, I hurt.
I'd give everything I own to have just one more smoke with Andy.
Jimmy
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