Thanks, Doc

I remember when he first came to town. I was just a young teenager still at home with Mom and Dad. We had a large family and my grandpa, Callie Grubbs, lived with us for most of my life until he went to Heaven after I was married.

Since this column is not about my grandpa, I will now get on with my story. However, I probably will do a story on him at a later date. He is someone else in my life I miss so very much.

Anyway, I don't remember the exact year, but after his life touched ours, he was a part of our family's lives for many years. I lost contact with him for the several years. I was away from Dexter, and even though I am out and about all over town, I rarely see him. But I think of those long ago days and the part he played in our lives for so many years.

Our family was one of his first "house calls", if not his very first patients. I don't recall how we learned of him; but my grandfather became ill, and we called him. He brought his black doctor's bag and took care of my grandfather's needs. After he cared for Grandpa, he did not grab his bag and rush out. No siree, not this doctor. He sat with our family untill he knew Grandpa was okay.

Another time he came to give Grandpa a shot, and Mom was cooking breakfast. Now you have to know that when Mom cooked breakfast back then, it wasn't one or two eggs on individual plates. It was more like a dozen or two heaped onto a large platter, two large pans of homemade biscuits, a gallon of gravy, and five pounds of bacon. Also, it was not at nine o'clock in the morning. it was much earlier.

Well, since it was breakfast time and the good doctor was there, Mom asked him if he would like to join us for breakfast. His response was a quick "yes I do." So, he had breakfast with us and that started a story he has told many times down through the years about Mom's delicious "big breakfast."

Later in my life when I was married and having my children, he was the "deliverer". He also delivered my youngest brother, who is six months younger than my oldest daughter. Now picture that, Mom and I pregnant at the same time.

Mom had my brother's middle name picked out, but not his first. While she was on the delivery table the doctor said, "why don't you name him Randall and call him Randy? That's what we did with our son." So, Mom did just that. At his urging, she named my baby brother after our doctor friend's son, Randall, but called Randy.

One of my precious friend's mother, was a nurse for this dedicated doctor. She always made a visit to the clinic much easier. Even though he was a good friend, he was still a doctor and I have always gotten nervous going to a doctor. But this nurse always made it a pleasant experience with her soft and sweet words. I have never known a more precious nurse than her.

My hero and heroin this week are, Doctor Floyd Northington and Nurse Ruby Morris. Ruby, I know you are doing a wonderful job in Heaven. I stilllove and miss you and your kind smile. Doctor Northington, we must get together soon and do some reminiscing.

Remember: "Too often we underestimate the power of a touch, a smile, a kind word, a listening ear, an honest compliment, or the smallest act of caring, all of which have the potential to turn a life around."

(Leo Buscaglia)

See ya next time somewhere in a 'korner'.

kdover28@gmail.com - 573-820-2404 or facebook me