Carrie Link

THE NEXT DON WILSON

Ten years ago next month, my father, Don Wilson, officially died. I believe it was suicide, but the doctors called it emphysema. He smoked and drank himself to death, but instead of dying in one fell swoop, it took him over 30 years. You might even call it a murder/suicide, in that he sucked the life out of many during his long and awful decline.

When a cat showed up on our porch and showed no signs of leaving, I joked that she, Sweetpea, was Don Wilson reincarnated. After the joke died, the utter belief set in. I never heard Rojo once call the cat Don Wilson, or Granddad. He never acknowledged that I believed the cat was more than a cat.

On Friday Sweetpea was hit by a car. My daughter and I both felt like my dad had died all over again. "It's like losing a grandparent!" she wailed through her tears. I told Rojo that Sweetpea had died, and he said, "I don't care."

The next day, thinking surely he didn't fathom the reality, I told him again that Sweetpea had died. Again he said, "I don't care."

Today, five days later, he asked my dear friend, Kathleen, that works with him once a week, "Who will be the next Don Wilson?" Oh my God! He did "get it", and he even gets reincarnation, apparently. Then he turned to Kathleen and said, "You will be the next Don Wilson." Who am I to tell him he's wrong? I just know that if he's right, I couldn't have made a better selection myself.