The tale of One-Eyed Gil

  Now don't get me wrong.  Or you can, if you are so inclined.  But I am here to pay homage to the man who made my aunt smile.
  Gil was a big man.  He was larger than life.  He had a great smile, a loud hearty laugh, and knew more jokes than Henny Youngman.  He also drove my father crazy.
  Now Dad liked Gil, he just didn't like that non seeing eye which always gazed upward.  Dad would often phone my aunt and plead with her to talk  Gil into buying an eye patch.  Maybe Dad has a penchant for Rooster Cogburn, but more likely, my Dad was a complainer par excellence.  My aunt would sigh and not insult her friend by insisting he put on an eye patch because it bothered her brother in law.  My aunt is a true saint.
  I would often see Gil in a donut shop I  frequented on early weekday mornings after dropping off my husband at work.  He would be at the donut bar surrounded  by men as gray as he, and some far more deaf than him.
  I took a certain pleasure in sneaking up on Gil from his blind side, wrapping my arms around him in a big hug and whispering sweetly in his ear.  That always made the others chortle and the teasing would begin.  Gil always laughed the loudest.  He would hug and tease me back.
  There's nothing like being teased by a group of old men in the early morning hours to put a big grin on my face and put a good start to my day.
  The group of us would sit for hours talking of the local news, ailments and various other things like dirty jokes.  I do think they enjoyed watching me blush as they tried to embarrass me.  And they often succeeded.
  After a while, the crowd would disappear one by one, until only a few remained. I was usually one of those few, as often I had little to do that day.
  Gil has been gone from us for many years now.  I will never forget his teasing ways and his wonderful humor.  The next donut I eat will be in honor of Gil, you ornery old guy!