I worked today and BG slept in following a late night so she's out shopping for our dinner which will include pork tenderloin and asparagus and deviled eggs and who knows what else. Since we are a "family" now with up to six or seven mouths to feed it's a real event when there's something good on the menu. Rarely are there leftovers, and if so they are gone the next day. Austin says I cook like his grandma did. Me and his mom had a talk about how much she misses her own mother the other day and we both ended up in tears while BG looked on in wonder. It's been only three years so she's still processing the whole deal plus everything else she has on her plate. BG was gonna' swing by the graveyard and have an Easter chat with her friend Jacob. That reminded me of the day I hauled that snotty bunch of SS kids to the CEMETERY in a church van. I pulled up next to our family's spot across from the softball field where there are still lots of trees. My grandparents, great-grandparents, aunt Jerri, uncle Bill and others are there. I unloaded them and we sat cross legged on the grass in our new clothes and considered what it would have been like to go look in the tomb on Easter morning and it's empty! Whoa...
The flowering cross was looking kind of droopy when I slid by on the way home plus the light changed and I had to move out of traffic. It's a standing joke with us Methodists that the cross is one of the biggest reasons the Baptists will cross the street for a visit. They all want selfies in front of it, 'ya know. I've seen traffic stop to allow entire families to happily run across the street to that flowering marvel of a tribute. I read an article today about how churches and the people in them have forgotten that everybody can't afford fine clothes. But these folks are usually the ones who will put on their best, no matter what it is, as an act of respect. I remember when nobody even wore pants so I'm tickled to death with the shift to casual even though I rarely attend. Sunday mornings are for sleeping until or when I'm not getting up at 5AM. Who the heck knows at this point.
So, there have been two terrible tragedies in Asian countries where the people customarily don't talk about their pain but just kill themselves or something equally as drastic. The teacher who planned that ferry trip did just that. He was rescued but found hanging by his belt a couple of days later. I'm sure he felt that it was his fault and perhaps it was. But maybe? Just maybe it's one more message from Big Ernie that our priorities should not be with profit and things but with real human relationships. If it's your time, it doesn't matter if you're on the ferry or in the plane. The script is already written, just waiting for the players to show up. Every hair on every head ya'll. I can't wait to see how many times I get called out for that pre-destination theory.
One of my work friends lost her sister this weekend and my heart goes out to she and her mama..it's just the two of them now. Mama worked with us forever in the pharmacy back in the days of Captain Lee Simmons and county owned and operated. I remember visiting her when her much younger brother died in a wreck. Tiny little old Halls TN is home to a lot of wonderful people including my friend the Little General and her EMT granddaughter. Just south of there is where Trauma Tommy lives on a kinda' sorta' farm with lots of chickens and his mama. Oh, and TBoy the wonder dog. He posted a video prior to his surgery that had us all wondering if he would even make it through and sure enough he's alive and well and already back to Lauderdale county. You can't keep a good man down, just saying. Poor Sammy D knows better but he just backed Lily into the kitchen corner and she was making sounds that even scared me. Gotta get ready to dye and hunt eggs. We may get done by dark..
Peace~Faith
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