I got phone call from "the estranged one" today. He called while I was at my mother's house. He was off playing cards or doing whatever it is that he does with his friends. I assumed that he was calling to let me know if I needed to get a ride home with someone else. Instead he tells me in an emotionless voice, "I've had some bad news. My brother is dead." (His exact words)
My jaw dropped. I could feel my face go pale. "Oh, my God!" I exclaimed, numbly, "Which one?" (He has five) My mind immediately envisioned his heavily drinking younger brother involved in a drunk drving accident. (He's had several near misses.)
"It's Keith," he told me."He had a heart attack while driving home."
We spoke numbly for a few minutes before ending the call. Our sons were lurking around me, wondering what happened. As soon as I got of the phone they asked what had happened. I told them what little I knew. We all cried.
Keith may not have been the brightest bulb in the pack but he was a really sweet guy. I never heard him say an unkind word about anyone, save for his ex-wife (And after what she did to him and their family, she deserved every one of them and more!) If you needed something, he was always willing to help. When "the estranged one" and I first met, he lived next door to his parents, so we did a lot of things together. I can rememberbabysitting his kids, and sleeping on the couch in those early days. Those children are grown now and have kids of their own. So many fond memories...
