A Tribute: You Were One of a Kind

When you took me to a drive-in movie and fed me hot dogs for dinner on our first date in the spring of 1967, I knew you were one of a kind.
When you asked me if you could "come calling" In knew you were one of a kind.
When you told me you were a salesman, mechanic, and wash boy of City Motor Sales and six months later, I learned you really owned it, I knew you were one of a kind.
When I went back to Graduate School at Appalachian State University and you came up and proposed marriage to me at Moses Cove Lookout on the Parkway, I knew you were one of a kind.
When you went to visit my Mother and Dad and asked for my hand in marriage, I knew you were one of a kind.
When you were almost late for our wedding on August 22, 1969, because you had to make that car sale so we could have honeymoon money, I knew you were one of a kind.
When you introduced me the day after our wedding as your 'brand new wife', I knew you were one of a kind.
When in 1969 you spent $25 for a motel room at the Congress in Washington, DC while we were on our honeymoon, I knew you were one of a kind.
When we gave out of money on our honeymoon and you went in that bank in Connecticut to borrow $200.00 so we could get back home and actually got it, I knew you were one of a kind.
When I cooked my first meal for you, James and David and burned the fish and you ate them anyway, I knew you were one of a kind.
When you built our house at the Wildlife Pond because you knew I loved to fish, I knew you were one of a kind.
When you chose to attend the Methodist Church because I was Methodist even though you were Pentecostal, I knew you were one of a kind.
When I wanted to move our membership to the First Pentecostal Holiness Church, you agreed although you were actively involved in the Methodist Church, I knew you were one of a kind.
When I retired from teaching at Wayne Community College, you established the Fay B Weeks Accounting Scholarship in my honor, I knew you were one of a kind.
When you continued to give James and David fatherly advice even though they were grown, married and successful in business, I knew you were one of a kind.
When you loved your daughter-in-law as you loved your boys, I knew you were one of a kind.
When you lovingly teased and tussled with your grandchildren and allowed them to drive your antique cars, it was easy to see you were one of a kind.
When you always made sure you had tootsie rolls for your little buddies, the great-grandchildren, I knew you were one of a kind.
When you went to Haiti to play Santa Claus to the orphran children and came home and cried as you ate Christmas dinner realizing that you had enough food on your plate to feed several hungry Haitians, I knew you were one of a kind.
When you planted those big gardens so you could take corn, collards, and turnips to the preachers, widows, doctors and friends, I knew you were one of a kind.
When you would take preachers and all those other friends to eat at Pete's BBQ in Ayden, I knew you were one of a kind.
When you were standing at the entrance of the church greeting worshippers and presenting children with those little Bibles, I knew you were one of a kind.
When you go to heaven, I believe God will introduce you to Peter and Paul and say, "He joins the two of you in being one of a kind."

When it comes to tributes, the heartfelt is vastly superior to the eloquent. None is more heartfelt than this one. Written by my aunt Faye for her beloved husband Facie. They were married for more than 40 years. He was known to us mostly because of the antique cars he traded and owned. Actually he was much more than that. He was a doorkeeper at his church and now is a doorkeeper in heaven. That's where we will meet him again. Godspeed, Uncle!