at a leisurely pace

After work I went to pick my mama up from Aunt Mo's house where she was "sittin' shiva" as Albert Brooks would say, with her sister Aunt Granny. There were picture albums laying around looking to be picked for Deb's slideshow and all seemed well by the fire. Granny's youngest grandson, the only musical one in the bunch, is a pure joy to have around. With that many old people we need all the hands we can get! His sister and BG were born a month apart and played together as kids just like their moms. It's amazing how you are shaped by knowing a person, blood kin or not, merely by how they lived their life. It is the legacy that we leave for others...living an honorable life and doing good with what is, after all, just a gift. There are many ways that Deb made an impact on me as a woman, and most of it had to be with toughness. She loved the growth cycle in a "look at what I can do" way and often orchestrated entire flower beds to be hovered over by she and her father who lived around the corner.

The funniest thing I ever was was when they were living on York street and Jimbo brought Buddy a damn HORSE on a rope across the street for Christmas. Bud climbed up on that horse and the saddle flipped sideways. What a hoot! He drove his grandaddy to Union City for radiation treatments for prostate cancer when he needed the help. We all helped to care for him in his final days. Debbie got her strength from her mother I believe. Jimbo was like a best friend she hung out with. With that strength comes a great propensity to not focus on self care and I've got my share of both. She used to bitch at me constantly about being spontaneous as in drop and run to the lake or river when they loaded up a boat and headed out. That lack of random adventures has made Poops a dull girl and that must change.

I got her version of tough love on more than one occasion and occasionally deserved it but mostly not. Her values were different than mine when it came to child rearing and such. The energy that attracted so many to her as a friend was a thing of beauty. We had some wild ass parties in our thirties and forties when the kids were little and we could still not give a care because we had the rest of our lives and life was good. The train ran right smack through their backyard on a daily basis. It's funny what a girl remembers.

This weekend we will travel back to Newbern next door to the old home place where Jimbo lived and died. Only this time we'll be paying respects to his daughter and best friend. I find comfort in the continuity of that. WouldaCouldaShoulda.

Big hugs just because I need 'em.

^j^