Let me tell you a few things that made my heart sing recently.
The other day, we were at this gas station on the way back from Oxford and Chester craved one of those fried hot dogs on a stick that his cardiologist prohibits, but walk in my shoes before you judge and consider the stubbornness of said man. With dogs and drinks in hand, I pull out my card to do the process at the counter, failing to read the instructions while the line grows behind me, when a man taps his card and says “You’re good,” which confuses me because I’m looking at the screen still trying to figure it out when he said, “You’re good, I’ve got it.” I was both appreciative and embarrassed. I had money, just not the patience to follow directions. I thanked the man and told him I was a veteran, and he thanked me for my service.
Next, I gathered a sister-in-law and a niece to go see the Air Force Jazz Band in Senatobia. It got my patriotic spirit going and I enjoyed it. Being an Air Force veteran, I felt pride and almost wanted to march around.
Then, while stopped at the gas pump in Tutwiler, a very nice young man pumped my gas for me. I had hobbled around the car after trekking all over the big store in Clarksdale loading up two 16-pound bags of dog food instead of a less expensive 40-pound bag because I can’t lift it like I used to — just the other day, it seems like. I followed the directions on my card this time, paid for my gas and he did the rest. Wasn’t that sweet? He had a beautiful candy apple red car.
I’m not used to folks taking care of me.
I think it may be because I’m older now, have a disabled license plate, or maybe because I speak to folks first and I get what I give. But I’m telling you this, I’m living a good life right now right here in the middle of farmland with three dogs, two cats and a stubborn husband who’s my best friend and I have the very best friends I’ve had since forever. I have the best in-laws and folks I truly love.
I’ve been invited into folks’ homes and churches and I’ve had a hand in some things that once upon a time made folks smile, like a painted bridge, a painted storefront, a children’s garden, and gathering shoe boxes for children in other countries and writing stories to tell you folks.
My kids discuss what should happen to me in a few years when I may be alone, if my stubborn husband finds a cutie pie who cooks to run off with. How I should sell my family home and move closer to my soon-to-be five great-grandchildren. Because I would have a better life there than here. I just asked her in the 20 some-odd years I lived there before, did I ever paint a bridge or have folks invite me to join a club or ask my help or ask me to write a column.
She agreed to a compromise of quarterly flights unless I was busy.
Which I was, busy, last Saturday when I attended the Kentucky Derby watch party held at the Gregory home in Charleston. I told those nice ladies at the bar I didn’t drink whiskey and had never had a mint julep in my life but I insisted on being a sport until that one sip almost killed me. I traded it for a nice red wine and just proceeded to die nice and slow. Next year, if there is one, I’m gonna bring my premixed bottle of margarita, as there is a limit to my sportiness.
Anyway, there was betting going on for the races and I declined to bet, having spent my wad on a bunch of tickets. But I did look at the horses and make my pick. There was one whose name stood out to me because it reminded me of a friend’s name — Ocelli, with 70-to-1 odds. I promise I would have bet on that one.
And the winner was Golden Tempo. I didn’t see that name on a list but I promise I would have picked it because that husband of mine was a drummer in a band since he was 14 years old and I have a T-shirt that says the tempo is whatever the drummer says.
So, if I had been a betting person, I would have cleaned house. But I’d have given it back to CARE because my grandfather didn’t raise a betting person, nor a smoking person, nor a drinking person. However, I’m believing a margarita it just good manners in a Mexican restaurant and is really medically OK if you have breathing issues. With all that lime and salt, it’s just good for you. Kinda like my grandfather’s cigars were good for him.
I just love all my home folks and I’m not going anywhere as long as you’ll have me.
Oh yeah, at the Derby Party I also won second place for the most traditional hat and got a trophy to boot. Just you wait till next year!
