It's been 7 years since Kit went home to be with Jesus. Memories of him still flood my mind sometimes when I'm driving. I can't pass a road crew wearing bright orange vests without remembering Kit having to be reminded to take it off before going to bed. Measuring tapes? He had 14 when he died. Tool belt? At least 3. Work boots? one very worn pair, one semi worn, one just getting broken in and a brand new pair in his closet.
Kit had to be kept busy or things would 'disappear' somehow only to mysteriously reappear in his room upon inspection. Then he would vehemently deny knowing anything about the items or how they got there. It was always a big mystery.
When he'd visit my house and I'd have to use the washroom I'd let him play my guitar. That way I knew as long as he making noise his hands were busy.
The thing I miss the most about Kit is the way he prayed. If you were the recipient of his prayers you really knew you were prayed for. He would demand God for His attention because a friend of his was in need.
I miss you Bud. You were the best.
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