Just Mr. Jenkins
It is with a heavy heart and tears in my eyes that I find myself writing this on a cold Friday morning. But Mr. Jenkins would want to see a smile, and he always managed to get one out of me.
I grew up spending a lot of time at 166 Elizabeth Drive, at Gander Drugs, ,out to Eastport and even a month in Florida with the Jenkins'.
I loved the St. John's accent I always heard in Mr. Jenkins' voice, I loved the fact that he wore grey dress pants when he shoveled his driveway.
I was always made to feel at home and was completely comfortable, that's what was so perfect. It was like a second home now that I think back.
When Susan and I were 19 we spent a month in Florida with her mom and dad. After 2 weeks, I decided I had a good enough "base tan" and spent hours at the beach slathered in oil. Not a great idea for a pale blond. I ended up with 2nd degree burns on my shins (according to Mr. Jenkins). He made me go sit in the hot tub on the property. It took 20 minutes just to get in as far as my knees and it was torture, but once I was in, it soothed that awful burn. I thought he was a genius. Well, he was I suppose.
To me, Mr. Jenkins will always be a part of my childhood and my teenage years. He just was...
A wonderful man and a friend to all. I'll picture him always, sitting on the front step, holding his hand up to everyone (must have gotten tiring, he knew everyone after all)
Are you in a better place? Perhaps. You don't hurt any more so it must be. But the place where we are just lost a little bit of better. xo
Posted by Ann Bartlett
Friday November 29, 2013 at 10:01 am
