memoir

Jolly Funeral Policy

Agents selling funeral policies were a fixture in the rural South.  Our budget was too tight for such luxuries as funeral policies, so Mother tried hard to make sure we didn’t die.  Myrtle Harper sold policies for Jolly Funeral Home and Watkins products for the home.  She was a nosy do-gooder who carried sunshine from house to house, dispensing information about people’s financial situations (Betty Jones was three months behind on her six policies but thought she might be able to get the money from her Mama, now that her daddy had drunk himself to death and Mama wasn’t stretched quite so tight), their health(It’s a good thing, Bonnie Mercer bought that nice policy on her new baby.  She might need it if the baby didn’t start looking better.) and social issues.(Bertha Willis had another black eye and “No wonder Phil Parker ran around with everything in a skirt.  Lucy kept a filthy house and her cooking wasn’t fit for the hogs.”)

Even though Mother had repeatedly refused to purchase funeral policies,  Mother  occasionally bought Watkins Vanilla or Anti Pain Oil for her headaches, so Myrtle kept optimistically coming by every time she was in the neighborhood.  She inspected each new baby hopefully to see if it might look puny enough to tempt Mother into buying a new policy.  When Connie and Marilyn were toddlers, they sat playing in the shade of a huge oak tree as Mother and Myrtle drank tea and Myrtle planned her latest insurance campaign.  “Just look at those two little girls playing there.  If you bought a policy for them right now, I could get them both a four hundred policy for just a dollar a month.  If you wait till they’re thirteen, it would cost you at least a thousand dollars to bury them.”

Mother studied her babies thoughtfully.  “Well, I guess we’d better bury them now.  I wouldn’t want to miss out on a good deal.” Myrtle never even knew she was being strung along.

Squeaky and His Pet Squirrel Neighbor(Smarty Kitty Update)

Squeaky in window with squirrelSqueaky was a rescue kitty who lived with us about three years, more or less.  I considered him a delight.  Bud, not so much.  They had dominance issues they never completely worked out, but Squeaky gave it his best shot, taking swats at Bud till the last.  Here you see Squeaky on his sunning shelf in the window.  I put a bird feeder right outside to keep it interesting.  Of course, the squirrel had to get in the act.  They had a fine time together, playing through the window.  Buzzy, my American Esky dog was always jealous of the quality time Squeaky spent on his perch in the window, backing up far enough to see them playing together, alternately crying and bringing toys to attempt to lure Squeaky away.  Naturally, Squeaky ignored all that.    Sadly, we recently lost Squeaky to kidney failure.

Take a Break?

AppreciationThis is what I got when I went over to pick up illustrations for my post.  Mother is getting a little difficult.  I’d been gone for several days.  Surely, should could have found a little time for a break while I was gone.  Seriously, we have some great times together.

Mother in her yard

Here she is relaxing on the patio she built herself.  Did I mention she’s past eighty?

In the picture below she is checking out real estate in a cemetery.  She likes to be prepared and wanted to know if it would be comfortable.  Did you notice the fanny pack? She thinks she “can take it with her.”  I told her it would all just get burned up!

Mother checking out realestate

Mithuth Thmith(favorite joke)

The crowds had been packing the traveling “tent revival”  every night that week, grateful offerings filling the pockets of the evangelist.  Cure after cure was enacted in the sweltering heat of those July evenings.  Emotions were at an all time high on the last night as the last two afflicted souls reached the evangelist at the front of the tent..

Struggling up the steps on her crutches poor Mrs. Smith hobbled up to the evangelist.  “Heal me!  I haven’t been able to walk without crutches in twenty years.”

“Yes, Sister!  You will be healed!  Go behind that curtain and wait with the others waiting for healing.”  Mrs. Smith slowly and painfully made her way behind the curtain.

Johnny Jones was the last in line.  “I have a lifth.  It hath made my life awful.  Pleath heal me of my lifth!”

“Yes, Brother!  You will be healed!  Go behind the curtain with all the others and you will all be healed at once.”

The evangelist offered up a long, heartfelt prayer for healing.  Weeping could be heard all over the tent.  Finally, he concluded, calling out dramatically.  “Mrs. Smith, you haven’t been able to walk without crutches for twenty years, have you?”

“No, Lord!”  she replied from behind the curtain.

“You are healed!  Throw your right crutch over the curtain.”  Her right crutch clattered over the curtain.  “Now throw your left crutch over the curtain.”  The left crutch followed.

Thunderous “Amens!” echoed all over the tent.

“Johnny Jones, you are healed of your lisp.  Call out to us in a loud, clear voice so all can hear!” demanded the evangelist!

“Mithuth Thmith just fell on her ath!”

Please Keep The Prayers And Thoughts Coming

Please pray for our neighbors in Buffalo and pass the word that they need our prayers.

Uh Oh!

The ninety-year-old man tottered in to his doctor’s office, then turned and gestured to his eighty-eight year-old wife.  “Come on in.  This concerns you, too.”

After a cursory greeting, the doctor asked them, “How can I help you today?”

“Well, we’re having problems with our sex life.”

Caught by surprise, the doctor asked, “Uhhhh….How long has this been going on?”

“First last night and then again this morning!”

Scorecard

Reblogging this excellent post from Red’s Wrap. I’ve often thought of this when hearing people giving glowing reports on their children, mindless of the struggles of others. Something to think about. Thanks Jan Wilberg for this thoughtful post on http://redswrap.wordpress.com/2014/11/18/scorecard/

Jan Wilberg's avatarRed's Wrap

Her children are doing great, one is an accountant, another in law school, the last in Central America on a break from college,resumes folded in her purse to show me if I asked. I turned away from the contest, knowing I would have to say that, of mine, three are happy and one not so much but that probably changes day by day. I stopped keeping track of their accomplishments or not and now settle on whether I want to have lunch with them and whether they can tell a decent joke or get one, which one of them I would trust to show up if I was stranded, no questions asked. This is hard to explain standing amid the Christmas candles in the department store so I just keep it to myself and say goodbye.

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Raising the Dead

Poor Uncle Joe was dying.  No doubt about it.  He’d been in bed for days, getting weaker and weaker.  Family “sat” with him around the clock.  Cousin Frank who’d been sitting for hours, finally just had to slip out to the bathroom.  Uncle Joe opened his eyes for the first time in days.  He smelled apple pie.  He was hungry!!  He just had to have some pie.

“Sally.  Sally”  No answer.  That pie was calling him.  With his last strength, he slid out of bed, so weak he melted to the floor.  Creeping on hands and knees, he finally made it down the long hall to the kitchen.  As he pulled up to the table and reached for the pie, Aunt Sally turned and smacked his hand, “Leave that alone, you old goat!  That’s for the funeral!”

Vagina, Boobs, and Poop

surprise

This is the start of a twelve part series posted eight months ago.  I am now expanding into a book.  Enjoy.

This post has nothing to do with any of these.  I am doing a post on crazy things my mother has said and done and wanted to see if this garnered interest.  Mother is sensitive about her age and height, so I can’t mention the fact that she is past eighty, and “not tall,” but besides that, has said and done some interesting things. Continue reading →