An update to yesterday’s garage door mystery, from the prankee, himself. To set this up, he got into his car and backed out of the garage, but the garage door was closed. His wife saw him outside later kicking and beating on the door. Probably she saw him trying to put it back on the rails. That happened last week. And on Sunday:
I went for a run today for the first time in a while, it seems. I did four miles on the old road, down the hill, up the other side, around the curve and down and back up and down and turning around and repeating the whole thing. It looks like this:
The rain was from Saturday. Today it was positively summer, almost August in Alabama, even.
I met the local postal carrier. She’d written a lovely little note on my grandmother’s online obituary. That’s the way it is here, or that’s the way my grandmother lived, that so many people that she did business with have stopped to visit or attended the visitation or have written things. We had a nice chat right through here:
The postal carrier was emotional about it all too, so there I stood, sweating in mid-run, trying to keep my composure and thanking her for writing and telling her how perfect the timing of it had been. My grandmother made gifts for her, mittens for the winter and so on. She, meanwhile, had brought treats for the dog every day. I told her the truth: every time I visited, my grandmother mentioned the mail lady. She thought a lot of her, and the kindness was mutual.
It is like that a lot here.
I believe the preacher said something about that during the memorial service, to know her for even 10 minutes meant you would always know her, and always remember her.
I have had the good fortune of having several heart-to-hearts today. I visited the grocery store. My grandfather asked me if the garage door was opened or closed behind me. I looked, for a long time, through the rearview mirror. There’s no garage there, but it was a fine joke. (He’s such a strong guy, by the way, and though none of this is easy, he’s showing all of the great qualities that make him such an admirable man.)
I saw several members of the family and friends. I wrote thank you cards. I found that I wanted to write them, which is to say I wanted to have them written, but I didn’t want to go through the process of finding the things to say. I’ve added new numbers to my phone. I still have a few calls to return. Some of those will land on Tuesday.
Until then, keep an eye on those sneaky doors.
