2003-06-12 - 8:40 a.m.

I woke to an email from my father today that I knew would come eventually but still saddens me immensely. Someone from my childhood passed away this morning around 4.

He wasn't my age (in fact, I don't really know why all of us little girls liked him other than he was a likeable kind of guy. He was the son of the next door neighbors, who eventually sold their house when Jessie and Pete had passed away, who also moved in with and married the Avon lady across the street. I have many memories of the other three little girls and myself going over to the house every time the garage door was open and offering to help "clean" it for him (this usually meant rearranging all his tools and sweeping). I also have many memories of sitting on the porch with Tonya (the little Army brat from Turkey who lived on the other side of them) and eating those frozen malt cups with Doyle and Jessie (Pete was on oxygen 24/7 and couldn't get out too well).

When he married Katy, we all sort of chuckled...you know-the next door neighbor married the Avon lady! She had several kids, many of which are pretty good-for-nothing, but her youngest is by far the worst of the lot. He's my age, but a total loser. Anyway, Doyle always joked with my dad that Jerry was in jail/prison/incarcerated again and say he knew I'd be heartbroken and laugh his head off. When The G and I married, we invited Katy and Doyle to the celebration, but Doyle was having a lot of health trouble and weren't able to come, however they sent a gift with my parents. I made sure to hand deliver their thank-you and sit down and talk with them at length about the ceremony and the reception and I shared pictures with them from the honeymoon. We even gave them one of the shots from our wedding set, since they weren't able to come. When *I* was hospitalized, they sent a stuffed dog that held a bone reading "Get Well Soon!" and some flowers. They were always doing stuff like that.

As he got older, he took to woodworking as a hobby he could do in the garage. He'd make all kinds of yard things and birdhouses and stuff and every time I'd go to mom's, he'd be sitting in the garage, waving at me and shouting "HELLO MELISSA!!" I took The G over there once or twice to talk with him, so that he would have a chance to know him. Doyle always spoke fondly of the days when us little girls would "clean" his garage and how much he remembered me when I was small.

I'm going to miss Doyle. He was my friend and I'm saddened by this loss the world has taken. He was a good man, and I'm glad he is no longer suffering. It just tears me up that now Katy has to suffer losing another husband.

in loving memory of Doyle Roberts

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