Writer's Block

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We're thrilled to be showcasing some articles, commentaries, and other works by our talented volunteer writing team, "Saints & Scribes"! 

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Death Comes in Threes
by Marsha Hill

Everyone knows death comes in threes. We are shocked by the news of the first death but when the second one comes so soon after, we cringe. Who's next? Death always comes in threes.

Charles Ray "Dob" Dobson's death was a shock. Members of our family knew him as classmate and friend, then Uncle. Dob was one of us. His children are our cousins. When he died on July 23rd we grieved.

Velma Louise LaRue Hood found out that she had cancer only weeks before. Everyone knew she was in for a terrible fight but no one expected her to die so quickly. Velma died on July 28th, the day of Dob's funeral. Her death was sudden but not so completely unexpected ... family and friends were still in town and plans were made for funeral number two.

Chris Dobson, Deborah's oldest son and our cousin, died on July 30th. Three loved ones gone within seven days. Family and friends were still in town for funeral number three.

The evening of Velma's funeral and the morning of Chris' funeral were the last two times I saw Ronny alive. We went to Walmart that Monday night and Ronny embarrassed me by performing his ballroom dance routine up and down the isles. I've wished since then that I had danced with him despite my two left feet.

We said our goodbyes in the Best Western parking lot on Tuesday morning Aug 4. My heart was so heavily burdened by that week of death. I asked him to be careful and to call me as soon as he got home. I thought, "this is going to be the last time I'm ever going to see him. He's going to die on that bike."

He called me that night to let me know he had gotten home safely. I was relieved and knew that all was well. After all, death comes in threes ... not fours.

Deborah burned the "funeral dress" when we got back to the B&B after burying Ronny. Eight was enough. It would not be worn again, not ever again.

I slept in the Harley Davidson shirt I purchased for the funeral. I wore it again the next day and maybe the next; I'm not quite sure. I wore it when I met Ronny's friends in Indiana.

It's in the hamper now. I'll wear that shirt many times more. But never to another funeral and never again when I am sad.

Other Featured Works This Month:

Spring Inventory

Empty Places

The Peter Pan Hat

In My Little Corner of the World