I don't really feel like re- capping the weekend, but Andy and I looked at each other Saturday night and said "Well, at least this is something to blog about."
I can't really tell you about the funeral, except that Billy would have been pleased to see all of the people there who will miss him. He would have smiled watching my sweet cousins read the bible verse that related to who he was. He would have loved their tears.
After the funeral and dinner at Grandma's, we had to come back to get Betsy. Long story short, it was unexpected. We were on our way, pretty chatty, and thirsty when all of a sudden my car made this loud snap/pop(umm, breaking) noise. Andy pulled over and said, your engine just died. Eww. Long day even longer now.
Ok, but after calling Russ and letting him listen on the phone to the motor, he determined it was a belt(phew!). Not, the engine(because that could be REALLY awful).
SO.
We sat on the road, with my insurance company for a good 45 minutes only to be told they could not find a wrecker service that was open or had any trucks available.
So Russ being the best friend we could evvverrr ask for, got Adrianne in tow and headed to get us.
Goodbye Land Rover. Goodbye first car I ever payed every penny for. Hope no one steals you or impounds you. Or searches you for all of my priceless treasures and old wheat thin boxes.
By now, Andy had planned to come back the next morning and tow the car back himself.
Just before we thought all hope was lost...
A wrecker pulls up. Flashing lights, highlighting his mullet like a disco scene in that John Travolta disco/dance movie.
He offers his service for cheaper than normal because he's heading the same way anyway. Andy says "yes."
I cringe. I know I should look at this as a God send right? But I do not, do not want to ride with a stranger. That's the other thing, insurance covers rental car places, but there are NONE open on a late Saturday evening.
So, off we go with Dwight, the wrecker, who assures us he believes in God.
And.
We make it home. Safe and sound.
So,
Dear Dwight,
I love that your name is Dwight because I could not have imagined a more perfect name given the scenario we met you in. Your mullet gave me a fright at first because it seemed like the beginnings to a horror movie, but I learned in the end, which I should have learned earlier in the evening, "Judge not lest ye be judged." I will pray for your sweet children and your wife whom you didn't want to go home to. This made me sad. Thanks for the ride and the chat.
Love,
KBroome and the Hubs
Andy and I woke Sunday morning with a feeling of gratefulness. The Lord sent help when we needed it most. We will always remember Dwight:)
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