Sunday, 31 March 2013

Simply Observations

After a long week in Bama, under trying circumstances...I've come away with an odd observation or two.  First, I've come to realize that I need to refer to myself as a "descendant of Mr. Van" (my grandfather).

From the visitation period that one evening, there must have been at least twenty-five stories told of Mr Van.  In truth, my dad is almost one hundred-percent Mr Van....and I'm probably pulling eighty-to-ninety percent.

Mr. Van ends up being this farmer in the local area who could carry a bit on wit and wisdom.  He also favored decent cigars, and could handle a fifth every now and then.....even in a dry county.  My grandmother probably could only manage him twelve hours a day with her disciplinary tactics....the rest of the time....he was free as the wind.

To be honest, Mr. Van did snuff, cigars, and probably did a fair amount of liquor in his life....and only lived to be one hundred years old.  If he'd skipped all those evils.....he might have lived longer.

My family has an odd history to base this wit and character upon.  The original descendant in the local area.....came to an unfortunate end....having a blind donkey, and attempted to ride him along a hillside cliff as darkness came along.  It's best to say that ever since that event.....we've had this sense of life hanging in the balance.....with a fair amount of wit on the other side of this balance.

The second observation? dad and brother took me out the final day on a drive, and we passed around by an older house (I won't give my brother the location), but there was a hefty gal of 200 pounds out on the porch of this older wooden house in a bright red terrycloth bathrobe (appearing to not have much on underneath this), and sitting on the couch of the front porch.

For those who aren't familiar with home locations, old homes were traditionally within thirty foot of the road.

It's best to say this was a fair-sized eyeful.   Luckily, my brother was driving, and missed the event.

In Bama, you really need to ride as a passenger as much as possible, otherwise, you might miss seeing things like this.

Up in Virginia, we don't have many homes that near the road, or featuring couches on the porch, or having voluptuous women lounging within thirty foot of the road.  Maybe, that's a good thing.

My Week

It has been a long week.  My mom passed.  I went back to Bama for the funeral.

I have this vivid memory of the morning that I went off to the Air Force....1 Aug 1977.  The family all had breakfast.  My dad wished me well, and had to gone onto work.  I ended up being carried over to the bus terminal at the county seat, a thirty-minute car ride, and being dropped off there by my mom.  She offered up some last-minute cash to me....but I told her I had enough.  She gave me some well-wished words.  I got on the bus....waved to her, and left.

It ends up being this oddball memory that I always associate with her.  At least once or twice a'll pop up in my mind for two minutes.

From the funeral?  I was surprised how many folks showed up.  It was a fairly big turn-out.  My mom hadn't been in great shape over the last decade, and hadn't got out much.....but folks remembered her.

After such a long week....I'd like to say that I have a week to recover....but I don't.  I probably had less than four hours a sleep per night, over the last five days.  I'll get one quiet Easter Sunday to find some way of recharging myself, and then go back to work.