My neighbor, Mr. Goober, is very nice. I have known him ever since I moved here five years ago and he is very easy to talk to and to be with.
He is a widower. His wife, Bettie, died two years ago and he seems lonely and sad somehow. I don't blame him. He and Bettie were married over fifty years when she got sick and eventually died.
She had lung and heart problems, as well as diabetes, liver problems, and battled cancer twice. I remember her. She was very short, with straight, thick grey/white hair and smelled like roses.
Mr. Goober is the opposite of Bettie (or was). He is very tall and thin. Betty was fat and round. Mr. Goober has sparse, grey hair covering his pink-domed head, small blue eyes, and smells like dirt: he likes to putter around in his garden or work the land with his hands. I guess he does this so he doesn't have to think about how much he misses his wife. I don't blame him for being sad or lonesome.
If something like that were to happen to me, I think I would be the same way.
The Goobers have kids, but they're grown. His one daughter, Mickie, has four kids, all boys. They range in age from ten on down to two. The youngest are twins.
I'm sure the older ones remember their grandmother. Don't know if the younger ones do, except in pictures or movies. Sad. I feel sorry for the babies 'cause they never got to know their grandmother before she died. She passed away shortly before they were born.
Sometimes the grandkids come to spend time with their PawPaw and it can get noisy. They're not bad kids. I sometimes like to visit them when the grandkids are there; I sometimes play with them and it makes me feel good. I'm sure it makes Mr. Goober feel good, too.
I am used to little kids being around. I have two little brothers, ages six and four, but they live with mom. (I live with Dad.) Mom flew the coop 'cause she decided that she didn't like being married anymore. It was very hard on all of us, but it was worse for Dad.
Dad has been really depressed, so much so, it was affecting all areas of his life. He has since gotten on disability and is going to counseling. He is taking medicine to help his mood. Things are improving. I am trying to do all I can to help Dad on his bad days and we've drawn closer.
I miss Mom and my brothers, but the Goober grandkids make up for it.
Well, Mr. Goober is calling, so I'd best see what he wants or needs. I hope you enjoyed reading about him. I happen to think he is pretty special; he's kinda like my adopted grandpa.
I used to have a grandpa, but he died when I was four; he was in the war and he died of a broken spirit. He never did quite get over it. He saw and heard a lot of bad things. I miss him as well, but Mr. Goober has stepped up and so, in a way, I have a grandpa again.