Memories of Albert

We who have lost beloved brothers know the pain of loss, and the wishful longing to have changed the ‘events in the womb of time’ so that separations never come.

But, as we have heard so often, Real Life happens when we least want it, and we are left to cope and struggle thru acceptance of grief when the inevitable happens. If we are lucky, we have treasured memories and can bring them to mind as often as we want, and sometimes share them.

My memories of cousin Albert are of him at three different stages of his life. The earliest is when he was around seven years old. His enthusiasm and matter of fact way he talked in his lovely southern drawl captured my heart. He took my hand as we walked around his father’s tobacco farm. He pointed out things of interest and explained the work involved. I could tell he was imitating uncle Alvin, who was busy telling my husband about the tobacco crop. Albert’s childish imitation of a grown up was so endearing, I deliberately asked him questions just to hear him answer.

When Albert was in uniform, grandma A, aunt Bessie and aunt Esther passed on news of him. When he came home and settled down, he married and started a family. Our paths only crossed when I visited aunt Bessie and grandma, but I can still picture him at the end of his work day in his work clothes.

One of my most cherished memories is seeing him again many years later when Adeline and I visited him and RosaLee in Georgia. He was so handsome! Adeline and I nicknamed him our Ky Colonel on the spot and took candid camera shots of him every time he turned around. He was such a gracious host when he took us to see his wonderful ‘cabin’ in the mountains of South Carolina. I call RosaLee my Louisville Belle. What a joy it was to see the two of them, brother and sister, together. You could tell they truly enjoyed each other’s company.