{"id":447,"date":"2018-06-04T09:19:27","date_gmt":"2018-06-04T13:19:27","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/glendakotchish.com\/dir\/?page_id=447"},"modified":"2018-06-04T09:19:27","modified_gmt":"2018-06-04T13:19:27","slug":"raymond","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/glendakotchish.com\/dir\/stories\/raymond\/","title":{"rendered":"Raymond"},"content":{"rendered":"

It had been six years since \u00a0we\u2019d been up the mountain to see our baby brother, Raymond. He\u2019d let us know, more in actions than words, that he wasn\u2019t too keen on our company–anyone’s company for that matter. So I, for one, just stayed away. My sister, Jill stayed in touch but the last time I\u2019d seen him was at the lawyer\u2019s office where he\u2019d sat in the corner, puffed up like a bullfrog, stubborn in his silence. The three of us siblings went there directly after our mother\u2019s funeral, as was her wish. It was an odd request but so was our mother. <\/span><\/p>\n

Mother was not a wealthy woman but she had set aside a sum of money for her two daughters and one son. And upon her death she wanted us all together and to fully appreciate what she\u2019d provided and to be sufficiently grateful. Everyone got the same amount, even Raymond, her favorite. So she was fair in death if not before then.<\/span><\/p>\n

Anyway Jill cautiously pulled the car in the driveway. We almost missed it as it was overgrown with weeds. The house, a gift to Raymond from Mother, was set back off the road. The trees had grown up so that only the outline of the house and buildings showed through the leaves. It was almost summer, hot and humid. Clouds hung low threatening to rain. I saw a figure, a shadow move under the carport and then disappear. I wasn\u2019t sure if it was a person or just my imagination. It was there and then gone just as quickly.<\/span><\/p>\n

Jill got out of the car first and at the sight of her, Raymond appeared. He was wiping his hands on a greasy cloth, the kind mechanics use. He smiled, glad to see us. I was relieved. He hugged us both, in his standoffish way, circumspect about our womanhood, if you know what I mean. <\/span><\/p>\n

We went on about how long it had been. He explained that he was working on the lawn mower. It was working fine but then stopped. \u201cIt\u2019s in the wiring, somewhere.\u201d he explained.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s always trouble when the wires get crossed,\u201d I sympathised. We laughed. He invited us in the house. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cDon\u2019t mind the mess,\u201d he said (something our family always said, even if the house was spotless). He moved some papers around on the kitchen table. He offered us coffee. We declined. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWe had a cup from the service station on the way in,\u201d Jill said. \u201cWe got turned around on these country roads and had to stop for directions. I felt like we ought to buy something.\u201d <\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cIt was from a pot and not those press and go machines you see nowadays,\u201d I said. \u00a0\u201cIt was good,\u201d <\/span><\/p>\n

Raymond picked up some pictures from the table of a blond headed, smiling boy with deep dimples. \u201cThis is Gary,\u201d he smiled as he handed me one. <\/span><\/p>\n

Jill and I went on about how cute he was–such a bright and happy face, smiling up at us from the photo. For the next hour we laughed about the antics of Raymond\u2019s son, Gary who I learned, visited on alternate weekends. A smart little fellow and at only five years old, had it all figured out, especially his father. Jill and I shared stories of our grandchildren. We all laughed our deep laughs–a family trait. <\/span><\/p>\n

A couple of hours later, Jill glanced at her watch. \u201cI reckon we should get on back to town,\u201d she said. <\/span><\/p>\n

Raymond gave us the usual family response, \u201cOh, don\u2019t rush off,\u201d which made we inwardly wince with a guilty feeling of not staying long enough, not doing enough, that the phrase conjured up. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWe don\u2019t want to keep you from your work,\u201d Jill said, which seemed to be a satisfactory response. <\/span><\/p>\n

When we got in the car, Raymond said, \u201cCall me sometime, will you?\u201d \u00a0And I knew he meant it. So I will, tomorrow. We\u2019ll have some laughs over the phone. It\u2019ll be good.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a9 Glenda Kotchish<\/span><\/p>\n

June 2018<\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

It had been six years since \u00a0we\u2019d been up the mountain to see our baby brother, Raymond. He\u2019d let us know, more in actions than words, that he wasn\u2019t too keen on our company–anyone’s company for that matter. So I, for one, just stayed away. My sister, Jill stayed in touch but the last time … Continue reading Raymond<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":448,"parent":33,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-447","page","type-page","status-publish","has-post-thumbnail","hentry"],"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/glendakotchish.com\/dir\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/447","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/glendakotchish.com\/dir\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/glendakotchish.com\/dir\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/glendakotchish.com\/dir\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/glendakotchish.com\/dir\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=447"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/glendakotchish.com\/dir\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/447\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":450,"href":"https:\/\/glendakotchish.com\/dir\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/447\/revisions\/450"}],"up":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/glendakotchish.com\/dir\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/33"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/glendakotchish.com\/dir\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/448"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/glendakotchish.com\/dir\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=447"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}