As I was driving to work yesterday morning, I got the call from my mom that my stepdad, Bud Rutledge, had just died from a stroke. His death was not unexpected, as he'd courageously fought lung cancer for about the past year and a half. But it was still a shock, and especially considering the timing of it. Yesterday also happened to be the 25th anniversary of my brother's death. I figure there's got to be something karmic in our family about the date March 23. In any case, my mom felt that the odd timing signified that Bud and my brother Corbin are together and taking care of each other. On Friday we're going to bury Bud right next to Corbin's grave in Oklahoma City.
I got married just last Friday the 20th. One of the last things Bud said before he died was that he was glad that he didn't die on my wedding day. He was definitely one of the sweetest, most thoughtful men I've ever known. And he dearly loved my mom. I'm so fortunate to have had him in my life, although it was for only a brief few years. I've been proud to call him stepdad, would have been proud to call him dad, and know that somehow, in some realm, he's hanging with Corbin right now, and Corbin's pretty proud too.
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