It's hard to get a good read on your Great Grumpy . . . sometimes he comes straight out of left field!
I know he's been missing your Great Grammy more than usual lately, and no doubt, when 9:00pm rolls around on any given day, it probably gets just a little bit worse. From the time she moved to NHC in Knoxville until she died, he called her no less than once a day . . . usually at 9:00 in the evening. The conversations rarely lasted more than a few minutes, but it was their way of staying connected . . . even with the 140+ miles that separated them. The calls were generally of little consequence . . . a few words about their day . . . likely some anecdotal story from him . . . and a brief "I love you" to close it up.
This morning he called me to say he'd found Mom in the Sunday Funnies . . . said it summed up nearly every conversation they'd ever had:
Mom certainly had the "Cochran" gift of gab . . . Dad wasn't a really great listener, but he tried. Something you need to do: learn to listen!!
"God gave us mouths that close and ears that stay open . . . that should tell us something!"
~ Anonymous
