I have known Mr Kenneth for as long as I can remember. He lived a few houses down the street from me when I was growing up, so he was always around. I used to love going over to his house to play as a child; he was always so much fun. I remember those warm summer nights when he used to play hide-and-seek with my brothers and I. We used to play basketball in his driveway and go swimming in his pool. He never seemed to mind. In fact, I had an open invitation to “stop on over” whenever I wanted.
I grew up, Mr Kenneth became increasingly involved in my life. He bought me my first bike when I was 8 and coached my baseball team when I was 12. You would think that my parents would have had a problem with him being so close, but they didn’t. In fact, he was a good friend of my mother and used to talk with my dad about all sorts things. My parents used to ask him to babysit us when they wanted a night out, and he was always happy to oblige.
When I really think about it, knowing Mr Kenneth while I was growing up was truly a blessing. No matter how busy he was, he always made time for me. And I abused it. I used to run over there whenever I had a fight with my parents or I just needed to get away. If I had something on my mind, I would dump it all on Mr Kenneth. Girl problems? Go see Mr Kenneth. Trouble at school? Go see Mr Kenneth. No matter what was going on in my life, I knew I could talk to him. He kept an open mind and never judged me. If I did something stupid, he would call me on it and try to get me back on the right path. He was always there when I needed him most, which is why it was no surprise when he became my teacher.
Mr Kenneth quit his job after my freshman year and took a job teaching at my high school. It was a huge sacrifice. He spent years going back to school part time to become a teacher. He sold his house and car, and move into a small apartment that was close enough to the school for him to walk everyday. At the time, I could not understand why he would want to make such a sacrifice. Every time I asked him about it, he would tell me he was following his passion. I never really knew what he meant.
When I found out that Mr Kenneth was going to be my Chemistry teacher, I was nervous. I had known him my entire life and I was worried if he was going to embarrass me or single me out in class. It did not take long for that fear to fade away. Mr Kenneth, as it turned out, was a fantastic teacher. He was funny and treated us all like the we thought we were. He expected a lot out of us though. He handed out tough assignments and his tests were brutal. But he would not let us fail. He pushed his students when they needed to be pushed and pulled them when they needed to be pulled. He would stay late every day just in case a student would need some extra help. I found myself in his classroom after school at least a few times a week, even after I was no longer in his class.
I think I started going to Mr Kenneth’s classroom after school because I missed having him so close. Sure he still came over to visit my parents, but it was not the same. I had come to depend on him as much as I had my own parents. That being the case, I would visit him after school quite often. He would help me out with my homework if I needed it, regardless of the subject. Every so often, after the other students left, I would walk with him back to his apartment if I was really struggling or if there was something I needed to talk to about. He would fix us some dinner and devote all of his evening to helping me. No matter how many tests he had to grade or assignments he had to plan, he would push that all aside just to help me.
As my high school career was coming to a close, Mr Kenneth began helping me prepare for college. I would go over to his place on the weekends to study for my SATs. He gave me several practice tests and untold amounts of advice on improving my scores. We spent hours together looking at different schools and talking about potential career paths. He helped me so much, that when I did get accepted to school, Mr Kenneth was the first person I told. I will never forget the look in his eyes when I told him I got accepted. He looked overjoyed, and almost tearful. He told me that he was proud and that he knew I would do great.
I spent the summer after graduation working part time and hanging out with my friends. Regrettably, I stopped visiting Mr Kenneth as often, but I still did see him around. He would text me every-so-often to see how I was doing. A couple of time, my parents had him over for dinner. It was nice seeing him, but I had other things going on in my life that I thought were more important. Most people I met would have been bitter about that, but not Mr Kenneth. Anytime I told him I was busy and could not talk, he said, “I understand. Go have some fun. You only have one senior summer of your life and I need to you live it up. Just be careful, and if you need anything, you can call me at any time.” Even though I was a punk kid, I knew that Mr Kenneth would always be there for me. I just never appreciated it.
As the summer came to a close, I started feeling nervous about going away to school. It was actually keeping me up at night and causing me to drink a little more than I should have. Eventually, I could not take it anymore and I ended up calling Mr Kenneth one night. It was around three in the morning, but he answered and talked to me until the sun came up. I told him everything I was worried about and he really helped me work through it. He made me feel better. Knowing that he believed in me made a huge difference.
My mother knew that Mr Kenneth gave me confidence, which is why she invited him over on the day I left for school. I tried to act like it was no big deal, but I was scared. Having Mr Kenneth there helped a lot. He helped pack up the care and made the dumbest jokes, but he kept everything loose. When I was finally pack and ready to leave, Mr Kenneth went to shake my hand, but I said no. I hugged him instead, and thanked him for everything he had done for me. As I got into the car with my parents, I looked back and saw tears in his eyes. He looked so happy and sad at the same time. As we drove off, my phone started to buzz. Mr Kenneth had sent me a text saying “I am so proud of you and I know you will succeed at anything you wish. I am only a call away if you need me.” For the first time, I really began to realize how much Mr Kenneth had meant to me.
Over the years at college, I spoke with Mr Kenneth less and less. I would see him on most holidays and would call him every now and then to see how he was doing. Occasionally, I would have him read over a paper I had written or had him help me with an assignment that caused me grief. We were still close, but it was not the same. I was so busy discovering myself that I barely had time for my parents, yet alone Mr Kenneth. I now keep telling myself “that was what supposed to happen at college,” but I still regret not making more time for him.
Despite this, Mr Kenneth was at the ceremony when I finally graduated. In fact, he recorded the whole thing. Again, he told me how proud he was of me and that I could always call him if I needed anything. He told me that same thing when I moved away to being my career. He told me that same thing on my wedding day. He even told me that after my son was born, though he also said he had no intention of changing diapers. Now that I think about it, Mr Kenneth always managed to be there during the most important times in my life.
Even though I saw him less and and less, he would continue to be there for me, but not just for me. He would help my wife when she went back to school to get her masters degree. Every Christmas and Birthday, my son would get more gifts from him than you could imagine. True, we didn’t talk as often, but our bond was still there, and it expanded to my family as well.
That’s why I rushed to see him when I got the call that he had fallen ill. Mr Kenneth had gotten cancer, but he never told me. I assumed that he wanted to continue to be strong for me, but it really didn’t matter. As soon as I heard he was dying, I caught the first flight that I could. By the time I got to the hospital, I was sick to my stomach. In fact, it took me an hour to work up the nerve to see him. When I did, my heart sank. He looked so old and frail. I had never seen Mr Kenneth look so weak. I refused to believe that it was him at first. I couldn’t believe it. But then I saw his eyes. I knew he was in terrible pain, but he eyes danced as soon as they saw me. No matter how much pain he was in, he could not hide the happiness he felt as I walked into the room.
“Quit being such a wuss and get over here.,” he said to me. “I don’t think I’m contagious, so you don’t even need sanitizer.”
I chuckled slightly as I sat down in the chair next to him. There were tube and wires all over the place. My mother was sitting in a chair off in the corner. She looked like she had not slept in days. The whole scene was very surreal. I tried to take it all in, but I couldn’t, the moment was too big for me.
Mr Kenneth must have known that I was struggling because he began asking about my family. I told him how my son was starting little league and that my wife and I were thinking about having another child. I rambled on and on about my family and what was going on in my life. Mr Kenneth just sat there and smiled. It was like old times. Talking with him made me feel better.
After a few minutes, I noticed that Mr Kenneth had tears in his eyes. It was then that he grabbed my hand and told me this:
“I just want you to know, that I do not regret any of this. You have no idea what it means to me to have been a part of your life. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me and I thank God everyday that you were born. I am so proud of the man you have become. Be sure to take care of your mother for me...”
Mr Kenneth struggled to get the words out. I started to cry as my head began spinning. I looked over and I saw my mother get out of the chair and rushed toward the bed. Everything became hazy, so I am unsure of what happened, but I heard Mr Kenneth utter his last words clear as day.
“And take care of the grand kids...”
With that, Mr Kenneth passed away. I sat there stunned and confused, unaware of the commotion going on around me. Nothing made sense. My wife and son flew in for the funeral and we stayed with my parents for a few days. I was broken hearted. For the first time in my life, Mr Kenneth would not be there for me. It made me feel empty, like a part of me had left with him. Eventually, my family and I returned home to our lives. I tried to do the best I could, but I kept thinking about Mr Kenneth and how much he had meant to me. I wish I would have told him as much, but I believe he knew by me just being there. At least that is what I told myself.
A couple of weeks passed and I was doing my best to continue on with my life. I was depressed, but I tried to hide it. I just wanted to feel normal again. His final words kept circling inside of my head. The whole ordeal scraped against my brain. Then one day I received a strange call. I listened in silence as he talked. When he was finished, I hung up the phone and sat there with a blank stare. My wife then came up to me and asked me who was on the phone, obviously concerned.
“Mr Kenneth’s executor,” I said with bewilderment. “He told me that Mr Kenneth has left everything to me...”
It was at that moment, his final words began to make sense.
I grew up, Mr Kenneth became increasingly involved in my life. He bought me my first bike when I was 8 and coached my baseball team when I was 12. You would think that my parents would have had a problem with him being so close, but they didn’t. In fact, he was a good friend of my mother and used to talk with my dad about all sorts things. My parents used to ask him to babysit us when they wanted a night out, and he was always happy to oblige.
When I really think about it, knowing Mr Kenneth while I was growing up was truly a blessing. No matter how busy he was, he always made time for me. And I abused it. I used to run over there whenever I had a fight with my parents or I just needed to get away. If I had something on my mind, I would dump it all on Mr Kenneth. Girl problems? Go see Mr Kenneth. Trouble at school? Go see Mr Kenneth. No matter what was going on in my life, I knew I could talk to him. He kept an open mind and never judged me. If I did something stupid, he would call me on it and try to get me back on the right path. He was always there when I needed him most, which is why it was no surprise when he became my teacher.
Mr Kenneth quit his job after my freshman year and took a job teaching at my high school. It was a huge sacrifice. He spent years going back to school part time to become a teacher. He sold his house and car, and move into a small apartment that was close enough to the school for him to walk everyday. At the time, I could not understand why he would want to make such a sacrifice. Every time I asked him about it, he would tell me he was following his passion. I never really knew what he meant.
When I found out that Mr Kenneth was going to be my Chemistry teacher, I was nervous. I had known him my entire life and I was worried if he was going to embarrass me or single me out in class. It did not take long for that fear to fade away. Mr Kenneth, as it turned out, was a fantastic teacher. He was funny and treated us all like the we thought we were. He expected a lot out of us though. He handed out tough assignments and his tests were brutal. But he would not let us fail. He pushed his students when they needed to be pushed and pulled them when they needed to be pulled. He would stay late every day just in case a student would need some extra help. I found myself in his classroom after school at least a few times a week, even after I was no longer in his class.
I think I started going to Mr Kenneth’s classroom after school because I missed having him so close. Sure he still came over to visit my parents, but it was not the same. I had come to depend on him as much as I had my own parents. That being the case, I would visit him after school quite often. He would help me out with my homework if I needed it, regardless of the subject. Every so often, after the other students left, I would walk with him back to his apartment if I was really struggling or if there was something I needed to talk to about. He would fix us some dinner and devote all of his evening to helping me. No matter how many tests he had to grade or assignments he had to plan, he would push that all aside just to help me.
As my high school career was coming to a close, Mr Kenneth began helping me prepare for college. I would go over to his place on the weekends to study for my SATs. He gave me several practice tests and untold amounts of advice on improving my scores. We spent hours together looking at different schools and talking about potential career paths. He helped me so much, that when I did get accepted to school, Mr Kenneth was the first person I told. I will never forget the look in his eyes when I told him I got accepted. He looked overjoyed, and almost tearful. He told me that he was proud and that he knew I would do great.
I spent the summer after graduation working part time and hanging out with my friends. Regrettably, I stopped visiting Mr Kenneth as often, but I still did see him around. He would text me every-so-often to see how I was doing. A couple of time, my parents had him over for dinner. It was nice seeing him, but I had other things going on in my life that I thought were more important. Most people I met would have been bitter about that, but not Mr Kenneth. Anytime I told him I was busy and could not talk, he said, “I understand. Go have some fun. You only have one senior summer of your life and I need to you live it up. Just be careful, and if you need anything, you can call me at any time.” Even though I was a punk kid, I knew that Mr Kenneth would always be there for me. I just never appreciated it.
As the summer came to a close, I started feeling nervous about going away to school. It was actually keeping me up at night and causing me to drink a little more than I should have. Eventually, I could not take it anymore and I ended up calling Mr Kenneth one night. It was around three in the morning, but he answered and talked to me until the sun came up. I told him everything I was worried about and he really helped me work through it. He made me feel better. Knowing that he believed in me made a huge difference.
My mother knew that Mr Kenneth gave me confidence, which is why she invited him over on the day I left for school. I tried to act like it was no big deal, but I was scared. Having Mr Kenneth there helped a lot. He helped pack up the care and made the dumbest jokes, but he kept everything loose. When I was finally pack and ready to leave, Mr Kenneth went to shake my hand, but I said no. I hugged him instead, and thanked him for everything he had done for me. As I got into the car with my parents, I looked back and saw tears in his eyes. He looked so happy and sad at the same time. As we drove off, my phone started to buzz. Mr Kenneth had sent me a text saying “I am so proud of you and I know you will succeed at anything you wish. I am only a call away if you need me.” For the first time, I really began to realize how much Mr Kenneth had meant to me.
Over the years at college, I spoke with Mr Kenneth less and less. I would see him on most holidays and would call him every now and then to see how he was doing. Occasionally, I would have him read over a paper I had written or had him help me with an assignment that caused me grief. We were still close, but it was not the same. I was so busy discovering myself that I barely had time for my parents, yet alone Mr Kenneth. I now keep telling myself “that was what supposed to happen at college,” but I still regret not making more time for him.
Despite this, Mr Kenneth was at the ceremony when I finally graduated. In fact, he recorded the whole thing. Again, he told me how proud he was of me and that I could always call him if I needed anything. He told me that same thing when I moved away to being my career. He told me that same thing on my wedding day. He even told me that after my son was born, though he also said he had no intention of changing diapers. Now that I think about it, Mr Kenneth always managed to be there during the most important times in my life.
Even though I saw him less and and less, he would continue to be there for me, but not just for me. He would help my wife when she went back to school to get her masters degree. Every Christmas and Birthday, my son would get more gifts from him than you could imagine. True, we didn’t talk as often, but our bond was still there, and it expanded to my family as well.
That’s why I rushed to see him when I got the call that he had fallen ill. Mr Kenneth had gotten cancer, but he never told me. I assumed that he wanted to continue to be strong for me, but it really didn’t matter. As soon as I heard he was dying, I caught the first flight that I could. By the time I got to the hospital, I was sick to my stomach. In fact, it took me an hour to work up the nerve to see him. When I did, my heart sank. He looked so old and frail. I had never seen Mr Kenneth look so weak. I refused to believe that it was him at first. I couldn’t believe it. But then I saw his eyes. I knew he was in terrible pain, but he eyes danced as soon as they saw me. No matter how much pain he was in, he could not hide the happiness he felt as I walked into the room.
“Quit being such a wuss and get over here.,” he said to me. “I don’t think I’m contagious, so you don’t even need sanitizer.”
I chuckled slightly as I sat down in the chair next to him. There were tube and wires all over the place. My mother was sitting in a chair off in the corner. She looked like she had not slept in days. The whole scene was very surreal. I tried to take it all in, but I couldn’t, the moment was too big for me.
Mr Kenneth must have known that I was struggling because he began asking about my family. I told him how my son was starting little league and that my wife and I were thinking about having another child. I rambled on and on about my family and what was going on in my life. Mr Kenneth just sat there and smiled. It was like old times. Talking with him made me feel better.
After a few minutes, I noticed that Mr Kenneth had tears in his eyes. It was then that he grabbed my hand and told me this:
“I just want you to know, that I do not regret any of this. You have no idea what it means to me to have been a part of your life. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me and I thank God everyday that you were born. I am so proud of the man you have become. Be sure to take care of your mother for me...”
Mr Kenneth struggled to get the words out. I started to cry as my head began spinning. I looked over and I saw my mother get out of the chair and rushed toward the bed. Everything became hazy, so I am unsure of what happened, but I heard Mr Kenneth utter his last words clear as day.
“And take care of the grand kids...”
With that, Mr Kenneth passed away. I sat there stunned and confused, unaware of the commotion going on around me. Nothing made sense. My wife and son flew in for the funeral and we stayed with my parents for a few days. I was broken hearted. For the first time in my life, Mr Kenneth would not be there for me. It made me feel empty, like a part of me had left with him. Eventually, my family and I returned home to our lives. I tried to do the best I could, but I kept thinking about Mr Kenneth and how much he had meant to me. I wish I would have told him as much, but I believe he knew by me just being there. At least that is what I told myself.
A couple of weeks passed and I was doing my best to continue on with my life. I was depressed, but I tried to hide it. I just wanted to feel normal again. His final words kept circling inside of my head. The whole ordeal scraped against my brain. Then one day I received a strange call. I listened in silence as he talked. When he was finished, I hung up the phone and sat there with a blank stare. My wife then came up to me and asked me who was on the phone, obviously concerned.
“Mr Kenneth’s executor,” I said with bewilderment. “He told me that Mr Kenneth has left everything to me...”
It was at that moment, his final words began to make sense.
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