My Clock, It's a Tickin'

I'm not sure what word I'm looking for right now, I think it's "satisfying" or maybe it's "heavenly", I'm not sure.  But I'll just say for now that it's satisfying and heavenly to have a screen door when you live out in the country.  I grew up with screen doors that were never locked and I've slammed my share of them.  Can't do that now, though.  You can't leave the door unlocked anymore and that's a shame to me.  Our world has changed since I was a little girl.  It's not safe anymore.

Last night I was standing in my kitchen with one of the best brownies I'd ever tasted in one hand and was making a cup of coffee with the other when I heard, "What you doin' in there?"  Scared the wits out of me as I turned around to see the shawdow of a man standing at the screen door.  As I got closer, I realized it was one of our church members, a friend, standing there in his old overalls.  As I opened the door and welcomed him inside, I felt tears sting my eyes.  The overalls made me think of daddy.  He always wore them unless he was in church.  Here this friend was, standing there with two recipe cards in his hands.  I had asked him for his recipe for peach cobbler, the kind you make with light bread, and he had stopped by to give it to me along with a recipe for jalapeno peppers in a sweet sugary syrup.  I love to cook and I love trying other folks recipes.  As he sat down at the bar in the kitchen, I lifted the tin foil lid covering my cast iron skillet for him to take a peek.  Underneath was an Utterly Deadly Pecan Pie I had made.  When he saw it, he said, "Get the knife and cut me a piece of that.  I smell coffee..." So I gave him my coffee and made me some more.

The man that sat across from me in my kitchen was a retired railroad engineer.  He had to retire early because stomach cancer was taking it's toll on his body.  For over an hour, he sat and talked, telling me about the cancer and how it affected his life.  He told me about his three little granddaughters and how they were his buddies, and how they were one of the reasons he got up every morning.  Looking at him, you'd never picture him riding a motorcycle but he does and he loves it.  He rides a lot with my nephew so we talked about some of their adventures and then he said, "My clock, it's a tickin', I don't know how much longer I've got here on this earth but I know I want to go out west soon and ride." 

His clock is ticking?  I can't get that off my mind.  How would it feel to know that you're facing death sooner than you had originally thought?  How would it feel to wake up every morning and know it might be the last time you were able to throw your leg over your motorcycle and ride with the wind in your face?  How would it feel to hold your grandchildren and know that your time with them is limited?  When he left the house, I made more coffee and sat on the porch with the dogs and thought about a clock ticking and how time slips away from us.  About how we spend our time doing worthless things and worrying about problems that really don't matter.  My clock, it's a tickin' too.  What will I do with the time that's slipping by so quickly?  I've got to get busy.  I've got more pies to bake, more friends to drink coffe with, more sunsets to watch with my husband, more rain to walk in, more hugs to give.

Another Mother

God truly blessed me with "Another Mother".  She's been in my life since before I was born as she was my mother's best friend for almost 50 years.  They raised children together, they shared secrets as best friends always do, and they both had wonderful husbands who were also very close friends.  When one had surgery or was in the bed sick, the other stepped in and helped out.  Cooking, cleaning, washing clothes, looking out for each others children, doing things they trusted each other to do.  When one cooked a grilled cheese sandwich, the other shared it.  If one heated up a bowl of soup, they split it between two bowls.  If one was shelling peas for the freezer, the other helped.  I can remember coming home from school to find a newly upholstered chair in the living room.  Mama just decided she wanted it covered and Kathlean came to help get the job done.  It looked like it had been done at an upholstery shop.  These two gals could do anything they set their minds to....together!  There was nothing fancy or pretentious about their friendship. They loved each other as only true friends can do. 

I learned how to dance the twist to Elvis music back in the early 60's out in her front yard with the record player turned up loud.  I slept with her when mama had surgery and wasn't at home for several nights.  When mama died in 1995, Kathlean was there for me and my family.  We had lost our mama.  She had lost her best friend.  And though she was always around while I was growing up, her presence has become even more prevalent in the past few years.  I can count on five fingers the people I know who have the gift of unconditional love and she's one of them.  She loves me, no matter what.  Her wisdom is uplifting as she speaks exactly what comes across her mind.  I never doubt what she is trying to tell me and, as I get older, I try to pay closer attention.  Her 89 years on this earth have proved to be a valuable tool for my own life.

This past weekend, we had the pleasure of taking her to Hickory Grove Founder's Day.  Never have I smiled so much on the inside.  It was such a beautiful day.  We ate homemade biscuits and mayhaw jelly, hot pear tarts and homemade vanilla ice cream.  Jeff bought fresh fried pork rinds and he and Kathlean shared them together.  We listened to gospel music groups sing the old time standards that we all grew up listening to in church.  The weather was absolutely gorgeous and to top it off, Kathlean had her picture taken with "Elvis" (a guy that looked nothing like Elvis but sure did a great impersonation of him on stage!)  Have you ever heard of a day that was worth a million dollars?  Well, this was that day!  No amount of money could replace the value of a day spent with two people I love very much and I cherished every moment of it.  We've marked the date on our calendar for next year.  She'll be 90 by then and we plan to spend it the same way, with a little woman that we think the world of.  Often times I hear her say, "You know your mama's gone, your daddy's gone, my husband's gone...I don't know why the Lord left me behind for so long."  I think Jeff's got it figured out.  He says the Lord left her behind for me!