She stands in the street next to his open car door, flirting with him, delaying his departure. He laughs. She leans in and kisses him and says she knows he needs to go. She will miss him, she says, and touches his shoulder.
Second son Andrew and I look on together as his grandmother finishes settling her husband of 52 years in to the passenger side of the car. She tucks his jacket out of the way and tells him that she will be following behind in another car.
They aren’t often separated these days but are driving home from Nashville to Montgomery in two cars driven by my cousins. They all thought it would be fun to have a girl car and a boy car.
She tells him, teasingly, to behave himself on the ride. He laughs heartily, saying how could she expect that of his nephew and him without the womenfolk to keep them straight. She says goodbye and closes his door for him.
Andrew continues to look on, with a faint smile. Continue reading