Simple question here: what makes a

The way things have been going lately, it has been hard not to start feeling sorry (or scared) for our ever-aging selves, I said to my darling wife the other day.

We’ve lost a few friends and family members this past year or so; some from old age; some from COVID-19 and related health issues; and a few from unforeseen situations beyond their control. And we’re on track – according to some emails and texts we have recently received from folks back in Kentucky – to lose a couple more…

By Michael Powell michael.cherryvilleeagle@gmail.com

Here in Cherryville, we’ve lost some good –no, some GREAT – people too. I could try and name them here but I fear I would miss one or two and would never forgive myself if I did. Also, all of them deserve better epitaphs and words written about them than some dumb word hack like me could ever pen in a short column.

As for health issues?

Well, we have had our share of them, and let me tell you here and now, that’s NO picnic! For my part, I’ve broken a lot of bones in my lifetime and had more than few broken for me; some by people I knew who didn’t mean to, and some by people I didn’t know.

And my wife, well, she too has broken a few herself. We thank God every day they weren’t as bad as they could have been, though they were no easy thing to handle either!

I was thinking back the other day about some of my old friends, many of whom, as I said, have gone on to their heavenly (or so I hope and pray!) reward. As I thought about them, a smile would appear on my face, causing my dear wife to ask me what I was thinking. Occasionally, there would be a smile along with a tear or two, which really got her interested in my thoughts.

While I had many buddies when I was at the ripe old age of 10 to 12, my one true friend was my cousin, Robert – a.k.a. “Bubbie”. He was like the brother I never had (I’m an only child). He had Muscular Dystrophy and was unable to walk after the age of seven. However, that didn’t stop him (or me) from getting into trouble, and I mean with a capital “T”! I guess I was his enabler since he couldn’t walk or run anywhere. But, with me pushing him around in his small, beat-up wheelchair, well, there was no place we couldn’t go where our – that is, MY – feet would take us.

We had us a mess of friends and cohorts in crime all about our same age and from our old neighborhood, and believe you me, we made the best of every golden summer the good Lord gave us.

A couple of those kids we lost along the way; some to sickness; some to accidents; a couple to just stupid bad luck on