Kiddo

"Kiddo."  Jimmie, my second elder brother, either began a conversation. ended it, or both, with "Kiddo."  His creative use of the sobriquet generated either chagrin or a chuckle.  While English didn't constitute a college major, he wielded the word as noun, pronoun, adjective, and verb ("You can just Kiddo yourself right on out of here!" he'd declare.)  He punctuated the word with a period, question mark, or exclamation point.  "Kiddo" served myriad needs:  Many times he'd had forgotten a name or the opposite, deigned not to use it. "Kiddo" lightened a difficult interaction, especially if the topic were political or financial.

At his best, however, he ranked it a term of endearment.  Jimmie called Mother, "Kiddo." His letters with an "APO" return address when stationed overseas began with "Hello there, Kiddo."  He used the term while Mother lay dying in Hospice, as his greeting and goodbye after I had tracked him to the "boonies" of Alaska.  Earlier that morning, a hospice doctor had completed her examination and wondered aloud why Mother had not succumbed, as had been expected.

A glimmer of insight peeked through the most primitive part of my brain.  All her adult children as well as grandchildren had come from all over the U.S. to offer final goodbyes.  Everyone but Jimmie, living and working in some remote part of the Forty-Ninth State.  Hours later, I'd been able to contact him by cell phone. I explained my speculation, then asked him to talk to Mother as if he were in the room.

"But what if she figures out I'm not there?"

"She's semi=comatose.  (Sister) Lucy will be leaning over her, stroking her cheek, while I hold the phone to her ear."

"Alright. Hey there, Kiddo, how ya doing?"

Mother recognized his voice, his greeting, and croaked "I love you, Jimmie."  I suppose she listened while Jimmie talked to her, ending with his "I love you  See ya later,  Kiddo."

Some hours later, Lucy looked toward Mother's bed and asked, "Is Mother breathing?" We rushed to her bedside.  I felt for the carotid artery, found no pulse. What? Oh, NOOOO!

I believe Mother's angels, dispatched by our All-Wise, All-Powerful, and Omnipresent Father, swooped down and transported her spirit back to her place of origin.

"See ya later, Kiddo!"