The Last

As everyone was enjoying their wonderful Memorial Day holiday weekend in a small local funeral home a passing happened that is landmark to a small group of brothers.  You see my friend Scott lost his mother this weekend.  She was the last of the parents of the three stooges as were so fondly referred to in our youth.  So now all we have is each other. 

Ricky, Scott and I were inseparable during our High School years.  Every weekend we were together and sometimes school nights.  We learned to drive together, learned to drink together, learned to fight together, and learned about girls together.  Well, all we could so to speak.  And our parent took us as each one theirs.  I can remember Scotts Mom and Dad getting on me as if I belonged to them.  We had to live by the same standards in each other’s houses as if we lived there!  I can remember in each place there were rules that were to be adhered to no matter what or who you were.

As I walked in the Funeral home on Saturday and I saw my friend.  He looked up smiled and eyes filled with tears.  You see I haven’t see Scott in over 15 years.  He said as we embraced I was hoping you would be here.  I looked up with tear filled eyes and told him I would be no other place.  We hugged for a while and then he realized we were being unmanly and awkwardly parted. What a special moment for me.  You see Scott was our wild child, after high school he fell into a rough group.  Joined a motorcycle gang and was a rather wild in all parts of his life. I can remember shortly after high school his parents had an annual gathering at their home.  The three stooges had always been included and we were once again.  Ricky and I showed up right on time and were catching everyone up on our doings since the last gathering and here comes Scott rolled up on his Harley dirty blue jeans, tee shirt, leather jacket, long bread and hair.  His Mother told him he had forgotten all of his raising and shouldn’t disrespect them as he was doing.  Scott not saying a word got back on his bike, and rode away.  Only to return in about 30 minutes in a three piece suit that he barley could get into. Vest buttons straining like a dike in Amsterdam, pants barely covering his boots, a shirt that he couldn’t have buttoned around his arm and a tie that is was obvious he had forgotten how to tie years ago.  But he was in the best thing he had.  His mother looked at him and walked over hugging him and kissed him on the cheek and whispered in his ear.  “I will never do that to you again.  You are my son and I love you just like you are.  Thanks for trying to please your Dad and I.  Don’t ever change”.  What a special moment we all had right then.  Well, that special lady is gone now and the three stooges are without supervision.  What a scary thought. 

As we visited at the funeral home it was like old times we relived many of our most legendary moments from the past.  All of Scott’s children standing agape as the stories seemed to get crazier as we continued.  His son finally looked at us and said y’all were a lot crazier than you ever allowed me to be.  To which Scott replied yep and that’s how it will always be.   We all laughed and enjoyed the time together. 

When the service was over we all made the promise to get together soon and try to stay in touch.  I sure hope we all do that.

I can just see the table in heaven right now.  Googie and Bobbie Faye, Ricky’s parents, Bernie and Roberta, Scotts parents, and Bill and Billie, mine.  Are all there reliving our escaped and laughing at the thought we always thought they never knew. And, I hope being proud of the job they did with all of us.  I know I am proud to say I am one of a few that had 3 sets of parents and didn’t come from a “Broken home” I had an extended home and at every place was loved, corrected, and cared for as if I was born into that family.  Talk about blessed.

God Bless each of you my parents.  And please be with the three stooges as we try to become whatever it is we will become. 

Thanks for the help…

Peace,

The Blessed Man