Saturday, October 30, 2010
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
She was Texas.
So I have been rolling it over in my mind. It just keeps coming up, how would I describe her? It just throws itself in the front of my brain, like a great dane trying to give you a hug. I can't look past it, it's right there, in my face.
She passed away lastnight. I couldn't make it there, too far to go, too little time left. I spoke with her, or to her rather. There has been no speaking with her, in a long time. Just memories of when she remembered me. Mom said she smiled when I talked to her... I'll take that.
The next call came at 12:48am. It was time. Half asleep I thanked God for letting us be a part of her life, and prayed that He would open his arms wide and draw her into Him. She took two more breaths, and ran to His love.
So here I sit, thinking if ... when people ask me about her, what would I say. The horrible stories, have long since overshadowed the good ones. I would love to describe a woman who put family first, inspired everyone she met, was an amazing encourager, and could cook like nobodies business. That wasn't her. Don't get me wrong she loved, I know she loved, because she loved me. I think I got the best of her. I got church on Sunday morning. I got reading her entire collection of Nancy Drew. I got picking veggies out of the garden, and taking them straight to the table to eat. I got the stories on her bed at night. Her and peepaw laughing, in their meat locker of a bedroom, that smelled like Vicks Vapor rub, and me half screaming half laughing at peepaw as he rubbed his whiskery cheek on my face. I got a solid day of being amazed that she had a computer, and another solid day of trying to figure out how to show her e-mail.
So how do you balance that, what do you call that. It's Texas. It's rough and tough. It's romance and spurs. It's home cooked meals and breaking your back to break that horse. That was her, she was Texas. She wore boots, with her long jean skirt, and a red scarf tied around her neck. Bright red lipstick and a quick tease to the hair, because everything is bigger in Texas. Her favorite song was yellow rose, Her favorite flower, the bluebonnet. Lady Bird Johnson was everything she aspired to be. She kept Old Milwaukee in business, and burned every brisket she laid hands on. She was spicy like the food, and had a laugh that made her eyes dance like a west Texas night. She would fight till she saw blood, if you messed with her family; and she would turn around and spank us all for making her do it. She made a 3 hour drive into a 6 hour drive, because she loved the mountain view; and she entertained the truck drivers the whole way. She was hard work and hard play. She was every bit of Texas. You could breath her in, like you do the Gulf breeze. You could marvel at her beauty, like east Texas. She could sneak up on you like a dust storm out west, and she could flat lay you out, like a winter panhandle. If ever there were a word more fitting, SHE WAS TEXAS. She will always be Texas to me.
She passed away lastnight. I couldn't make it there, too far to go, too little time left. I spoke with her, or to her rather. There has been no speaking with her, in a long time. Just memories of when she remembered me. Mom said she smiled when I talked to her... I'll take that.
The next call came at 12:48am. It was time. Half asleep I thanked God for letting us be a part of her life, and prayed that He would open his arms wide and draw her into Him. She took two more breaths, and ran to His love.
So here I sit, thinking if ... when people ask me about her, what would I say. The horrible stories, have long since overshadowed the good ones. I would love to describe a woman who put family first, inspired everyone she met, was an amazing encourager, and could cook like nobodies business. That wasn't her. Don't get me wrong she loved, I know she loved, because she loved me. I think I got the best of her. I got church on Sunday morning. I got reading her entire collection of Nancy Drew. I got picking veggies out of the garden, and taking them straight to the table to eat. I got the stories on her bed at night. Her and peepaw laughing, in their meat locker of a bedroom, that smelled like Vicks Vapor rub, and me half screaming half laughing at peepaw as he rubbed his whiskery cheek on my face. I got a solid day of being amazed that she had a computer, and another solid day of trying to figure out how to show her e-mail.
So how do you balance that, what do you call that. It's Texas. It's rough and tough. It's romance and spurs. It's home cooked meals and breaking your back to break that horse. That was her, she was Texas. She wore boots, with her long jean skirt, and a red scarf tied around her neck. Bright red lipstick and a quick tease to the hair, because everything is bigger in Texas. Her favorite song was yellow rose, Her favorite flower, the bluebonnet. Lady Bird Johnson was everything she aspired to be. She kept Old Milwaukee in business, and burned every brisket she laid hands on. She was spicy like the food, and had a laugh that made her eyes dance like a west Texas night. She would fight till she saw blood, if you messed with her family; and she would turn around and spank us all for making her do it. She made a 3 hour drive into a 6 hour drive, because she loved the mountain view; and she entertained the truck drivers the whole way. She was hard work and hard play. She was every bit of Texas. You could breath her in, like you do the Gulf breeze. You could marvel at her beauty, like east Texas. She could sneak up on you like a dust storm out west, and she could flat lay you out, like a winter panhandle. If ever there were a word more fitting, SHE WAS TEXAS. She will always be Texas to me.
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