The next day I got a call from Talmadge’s wife. He’d died in his sleep.
My first thought was he hadn’t gotten to enjoy Florida for
very long. It seemed so unfair.
My next thought was how much Talmadge had enjoyed life.
Talmadge had loved people. He’d spent years playfully talking trash with
Stanley, laughing liking hyenas at their own jokes.
He’d loved his wife, and when he wasn’t making fun of her
cooking, told her so. He loved his dog,
loved Epiphany’s dog Mojo, loved any dog that crossed his path.
Talmadge loved the NBA, NFL, WNBA, MLB, NHL, and college
football. He’d learned a little Italian playing bocce with the old guys he’d
met in the park. He had been a killer on the pickleball court.
Talmadge would fish through a tornado if the bass were
biting.
I thought of something Talmadge had said to me, smile on his
face, staring at a donut as if it were the first one he’d ever tasted. “Tomorrow isn’t promised. That’s a good thing.
Keeps you from wasting today.”
Today I will enjoy life as much as I can because tomorrow isn’t
promised.
(And that’s a good thing.)
Fawlty
Showers 2 is
a work of fiction. Any similarity between the characters and anyone you might
know is purely coincidental.
Other
works by Ken Montrose are available at:
• https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B001K8MG0S
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