Gerry

Our friend Gerry stopped by one afternoon this fall before we left Ohio for the winter. It was a fine weather afternoon. Meri and I were both out in the front yard when he pulled his truck into the drive. A big shiny, red truck. We paused in our work and walked over to see him. He was smiling but said he was not feeling well. He had been sick for a while. Gerry sat in his truck as we talked.

When we asked, he said the doctors were still checking. He’d had a sore back and other pains. Stayed home a lot. But as the conversation continued we talked about the usual things, the out of doors, how much damage the groundhogs were doing to Meri’s vegetables this year. Rabbits and birds and the fish in my pond, and of our mutual friends and what they’re up to.

He was a smiling, easy going, likeable fellow. It was always a pleasure to run into him. We often met at one of the pancake breakfasts in one of the area towns, or sometimes at our local outdoor amphitheater overlooking the river on weekend evenings where the locals often stop to chat with old friends and acquaintances. I wanted to write a tribute to Gerry for the friendship, for the times we laughed together, for the common history we shared in our small village. I’ll always think fondly of him.

Just a few months after our brief talk, on the Internet Meri saw the item on the site of our hometown newspaper. Services were held, relatives came. Our friend had died following a six month bout with cancer.