Thursday, January 6, 2022
Some of my fondest memories are of those warm summer nights in Malone, in middle and high school, when I’d ride my bike or walk from my house over to the Hardy residence. I’d take Prospect Street to Whittlesey then swing down around the corner past the tree line where all the bullfrogs were croaking in the pond below. When I got to the house there was no need to knock. I always felt comfortable walking right inside, where Dianne — who, for me, will always be “Mrs. Hardy” — would give me a happy hello and a big smile, as if to say I was always welcome in her home. And that’s truly how I felt, all those years, when her daughter Lindsey would round up our crew and have us all over to play boardgames. For those who know me, you know I’m not a very quiet person, especially when I get laughing, and any time I’d hang out with Lindsey we seemed to always manage to crack each other up. Whenever this happened Mrs. Hardy would, of course, have to hear our laughter late into the night from her bedroom upstairs while we crowded around the dining room table having fun — and she never once complained. I cherish those memories. To think of walking into that house now without Mrs. Hardy’s beaming smile to greet me breaks my heart. I’ll miss her dearly. She always went out of her way to make me feel welcome and loved. I feel lucky that the gift of her unending kindness will always be with me.
Only You Can Make The Right Choice.