I lived in a small town for nine years, and at least once a week I stopped in to the gas station to chat with Stan, the owner. He is a really nice guy. And he makes the best chicken I have ever had, really.
So, I am up in Morgan and I stop by to see Stan and wait until the first batch of chicken comes out of the oven.
No Stan. No cars. No trucks. No gas pumps. NO CHICKEN.
My heart sunk. I was so sad. So I went to the gas station across the street to get a drink. It didn't smell like Chicken Hut, it didn't have Stan standing there. It just wasn't the same.
Things change in life, and we need to be prepared for them. Kids move away, you change careers, you die.
Something inside me died today! But I know I will see Stan driving down the road, smiling and waving. And I will always have the memory of the chicken, the chicken strips and the conversations.