The Martins and McCoys would now be a tribute piece, I suppose, as today, September 8, 2006, my Great Uncle Cecil Martin died. I wish I could describe him to you as I saw him. Wizened, stooped, with thin receeded white hair, he still bristled with energy.
He himself was always amazed by what he was telling you - "Imagine that!" he'd exclaim, his thick stubby fingers punctuating the air. The final years were not kind to him, and that makes me sad. But I can still see him in my mind, this little wizened guy who was hell on wheels behind the steering wheel, stepping out of the car. He looks around, talking all the while to people around him, but still looking. Then he sees me, and his eyes light up. They light up, just because he saw me. Maybe his stories were a little repetative, but if you listened hard enough they were all about family and knowing where you came from.
Raise one last toast for Great Uncle Cecil, wherever he may be.
Friday, September 08, 2006
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