Off goes Prince Philip and Duke of Earl, I mean of Edinburg, at age 99.
Born in 1921, on the island of CORFU, he was described as a figurehead but he traveled the world to shore up the British Crown.
I shall write a brief fantasy of when he came to visit me on Cowbell Road.
A long black Continental pulled up in front of my house a couple of years ago.
I tied on two blue masks and put on my gloves so I wouldn't have to wash hands upon re entering house.
I couldna believe my eyes.
Quickly, before he entered, I stuffed all my mail under one of my Red Couches and ran into the kitchen and put my Bradford Tea Kettle on to boil.
Come in, come in, I said, with a slight bow.
He towered over me. And what a smile he had! A genuine smile with perfectly white teeth.
He grasped my hand and I noticed his sparkling blue eyes.
I bid him sit down on the Red Couch that gave view to the bird houses on the front lawn.
Note to Ruth - Ask the Boys to mow.
The teakettle eeked out its cheery whistle.
Earl Grey, I offered. And would you like cream with that?
With slightly shaky hands I carried in two cups of tea in my best cups. On the side I placed two pieces of small Dove chocolate.
What I noticed about him was how curious he was. He looked me straight in the eyes and asked all about my life.
On the living room window sill he wanted to know about my favorite objects d'art and I mentioned the wooden stork, a gift from Ralph Nelms before he passed of ALS.
Marvelous tea, he complimented me.
I had a photo of Sarah and Ethan on the wall behind me.
He held her in his arms, their marriage photo.
Yes, I carried Lizzie like that, too, he laughed.
Meanwhile I was wracking my brain of a gift I might give him when he left.
As we shook hands goodbye - and what a strong grip he had - I pressed the secret gift in his hand.
Never never never to be forgotten.
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