I know I’m a bit late with the Happy Bringers today, but I just got back into town (Savannah) from a one-night north Georgia visit with my parents in the tiny town of Ball Ground,
1. My obsession with Christmas lights.
2. Very little traffic in the ATL this December morn.
3. My parents’ tiny Christmas tree.
(If you look carefully, you can see me taking the pic, in the purple ball. Though why you would want to, I’m not sure.)
4. This deviled egg dish (hanging in my folks’ kitchen).
5. Driving my mom and dad up to Talking Rock, GA …
… to visit the grave of my mother’s father. (We haven’t been in a while.) Do you visit cemeteries with your relatives? In my fam we do pretty often, and it’s usually an occasion of joy–to reflect on the family members who have gone on. My mom’s dad, Clifton Etheridge Reavis, 1901-1926, died when he was only twenty-five (in a railroad accident) and she was eight. He was a railroad man. (Gosh, he was only seventeen when my mom was born. Never realized that before.)
Before we made it to the cemetery, we drove by the house where my mom lived as a child.
My mother (87) pointing out features of the old house:
“We lived on the first floor. I could walk to town and the depot to see daddy sometimes.”
My mother’s grandparents’ old house:
“Just look. Tub” (my dad’s nickname). “The back porch is falling down!”
My father: “Your Pa Reavis used to go out back to ‘check on the chickens’ when he wanted a drink.” We all laughed.
On to the church, where Mama said, “I was saved when I was just a little bitty girl.”
It took us a minute, but then we found “daddy’s grave.”
I placed the poinsettias next to the old monument.
Mama walked closer to approve.
“They look good, Neal.” ($2.50 at Dollar General.)
“I can’t remember too much about him anymore. But he’d bring me stick candy sometimes.”
Then we walked away. Satisfied. Remembering.
Even after nearly eight decades …
Love one another this weekend.