And so goes the memory
We were recently sitting at a memorial at the Cottonwood tennis courts, along with some 500 others, to honor a deceased tennis professional and friend, all waiting for the program to begin. We were celebrating the life of a tennis pro who was tragically killed on nearby Riggs Road earlier in the year while riding his bicycle.
My wife and I sat next to this petite lady who looked a little familiar. She wore a beige straw hat with a narrow brim. She and my wife made small talk for a moment and the lady then said with an almost quizzical look, “I think I may know you,” to my wife. Before she could respond I said, “This is Patricia, my wife.” She continued on, “But I think I know you, too,” she said, looking at me. I responded, “You know, your face is familiar to me also; that’s strange, where could we have met?”
The meeting commenced. The moderator spoke highly of our dear deceased friend, heaping praise upon praise on him. Don was loved by all for his generous nature, for his ever-present smile and for his fantastic ability to make both pros and beginner tennis hopefuls perfectly at ease. Don, ever the restless type, filled in any free time over the years by checking some of the many vacant homes of summer travelers in Sun Lakes to make sure everything was in order and that there were none of the problems that sometimes occur in homes when they’re vacant. Our house was on his checklist.
During a lull between speakers, I turned my attention to this mysterious lady in the chair to my wife’s right. Suddenly I said, “I know, we met at Sisk Park a year ago at our church picnic.” “No, I don’t think so,” said my wife. “She’s not in our church group, – you’re probably a little confused!” “Geez, wrong again,” I muttered to myself. “Well, anyway, my name’s Bob and I know you too, but I’m still not sure where or how we know each other”, I said.
Then lightning struck both of us at the very same moment. “You’re in my New Horizons Writer’s Group, for goodness sakes,” we both said simultaneously with smiles and huge embarrassment. I’m not sure who was more embarrassed but we had a good laugh over it all. We didn’t get asked to leave, considering our raucous laughter and we, in our now subdued manner, promised to never again forget that we were fellow writers, writers in the very same group that meets once monthly. Maybe the group has ample reason to meet more than just once a month!
Oh, I already forgot, her name is Carol.