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…Ok, so I’m a worrier.

I have these friends, Joe and Sheri.  Sheri and I worked toghether at Brookwood High School for nearly eight years.  We became good friends.  It’s rare to have a really good friend at work, but I’ve been pretty lucky in that category.  I’ve had several.

 

Sheri and Joe on the lake

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

There seems to be one person you connect with just a little more than others, and Sheri was it.

Joe, an amazing wood-worker and handy man, has been retired for several years, Sheri retired in May. 

They, as many retired couples do are enjoying the scenery around them and in some far flung places.  So, when I get the answering machine or the voice mail, I ususally don’t worry.  I know they’ve hooked UP the 5th wheel to the giant gas guzzling Dodge and headed for the mountains or elsewhere.

But one day, not at band camp, I called and someone answered.  It wasn’t Sheri, and it wasn’t Joe.  It was a voice I didn’t recognize…AT ALL!

The young man on the phone informed me that Joe and Sheri were out of town, and he was house-sitting, and watching Aunt Mary – who by the way, is a whole ‘nother post!

I didn’t ask who he was, but I was a tad non-plussed when he offered UP the fact that he was their grandson.

Like I said, I’ve known Joe and Sheri for nearly eight years.  Not once, not in a single conversation, not ever have they mentioned a grandson.

Two granddaughters, yes, two sons yes, a dog or two, Aunt Mary, yes, and yes, but a grandson N E V E R!

I was worried!

Instantly, the thought of murder and mayhem clogged my brain…I was, shall we say, “concerned”.

I could see the headline in the AJC “Elderly Couple Slaughtered In Their Home!”

or “Retirees Held Hostage By Unknown Man!

I instantly called Sheri’s cell phone.

Voice mail.

So, I panicked!

I raced over, drove by the house a couple of times – and nothing looked awry.

The Dodge was there…cause for concern, but the Bronco wasn’t…did I mention gas guzzlers?

Since the Ford was gone, I felt a scooch better, but not much.

So I called the cell again.

Again, voice mail.

And I drove by again.

All evening I wondered if I should keep checking, call the police, knock on the door, demand a tour of the house, and make sure they were not duct taped in the basement…you know, check this grandson crap out.

But alas, I decided to err on the side of sanity, and do nothing.

Then the phone ran, caller ID – Sheri’s cell.

A sense of relief, yes.

But it wasn’t Sheri, it was Joe.

Now, Joe and I are friends, but he’s not a phone talker, and when I call, he usually hands the phone to Sheri.  So, again, concern.  He simply, said, “Hey, we’re out of town, and the kid who answered the phone is the son of the house-sitter, he refers to me as his grandpa.”

Yet, still I wondered.  And I worried.

But, I talked to them both over the weekend, and they’re fine…so, they either escaped, or he’s letting them make phone calls.

Sometimes I wonder if I did the right thing.

Sometimes I wonder if I’m crazy!

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