walking the walk

I have to admit I'm a sucker for the Emmaus road and that whole thing. To me? That's when the real believing started..the first appearance of a friend they thought was dead. There was some genius team building and lots of fighting over the years about this or that religion or so the Bible says. And..it is still thus and so. I am not afraid of terrorists because if I am that means they win. And I'm a stubborn bitch. It's a blended Stafford/Reaves thing I believe. I ran across a picture of KY cousin at the birth of her very first grandboy Cooper. I miss her sometimes like the other cousins who have left my life but not without deep impressions of shared familial angst. Damn, we're a crazy bunch!

Lori had the day with her kids and I took Mom and Daddy to church in time for him to sing in the choir and speculate about the numbers. Plan A was Grecian which wasn't near open so we headed for the old usual. That's where you find Dani and Red and Mel and all the rest of Rita's bunch ready to make your day with a doughnut. Daddy had his flowers in a metal bucket ready to be arranged by the church ladies against a backdrop of magnolia leaves. I was out cleaning the yard and such and made several trips to town and each time I passed it looked different. There was poor Nicki up the hill on Troy in all her Easter finery pole dancing and singing at the top of her lungs. I guess the poor little dog died.

I sat in a booth with my parents for what could be our last Easter meal togetherand I watched Mama's eyes searching to see the picture of the cross on my phone. She does good just to spot the phone, you know? As I was leaving post allergy shot and flag light yadayada I thanked her for always making holidays special for our family. Girl could entertain like nobody's business! My cousin Mo is also quite the entertainer and I love parties at her house.

So yeah, I'm a little teary. Life is hard and then you die. I'm kind of like Scott Peck on that one: "Once you embrace that truth it ceases to hold you back from joy." Or something like that. The Road Less Traveled was like a handbook to me for many years of recovery. I don't want to hear any more bitching and whining and moaning and groaning about what's wrong. Just give me a reasonable plan to try and salvage my retirement and I'm in. Can you say "low maint? I'm tired and not just the kind that goes away after sleeping away weekends. It's a soul sickness of sorts and one that seems to be leading to some sort of big change. My parents are dependent on me and BG and Bubba and Fay and Lori and all the neighbors to keep an eye on them. Thank goodness we all walk the same road.