November 2016 continues to be a trying month. I’ve had a few snafus but nothing tops losing a best friend. My closest buddy (both physically and emotionally) succumbed to ovarian cancer Monday evening and we will lay her to rest today. She is pictured above less than two months ago with her son John and grandson Nathan.
I’m not sure how life will be without Brenda. We worked in our gardens together and shared anything and everything including a deadly illness which also took one of my best high school buddies.
As I was working on Thanksgiving dinner yesterday I started out the door a dozen times to borrow her red casserole dish I borrow every year. And I needed her recipe for sweet potatoes which I never got around to writing down because I could just trot over and get instructions over a cup of coffee.
We’ve also unapologetically appeared politcally incorrect wearing furs dating to the 6os. Brenda is at far left and the word “glamorous” doesn’t do her justice.
One of my fondest memories is of our garage sale a few years ago. We were going to make enough money to take a cruise but ended up just buying each other’s junk.
It was only 55 and one half steps from her door to mine. We beat a path along that expanse over a period of 13 years. We discussed world events, celebrated small victories, complained rarely and competed on our tomato crop. She always won. She was like a big sister without all the sibling rivalry.
Brenda was one year older than I – just turned 70 in September – and she was more beautiful today than when she was named Mississippi’s Miss Hospitality and runner up to Miss Mississippi in the late 60s.
Life on Green Street just shifted into a lower gear, and facing her house each day will be bitter sweet for a while…at least until spring when her old garden phlox spring into bloom and the butterflies return and the fish in her Koi pond come out of hibernation.
Before she died I told her to save me a front row seat up there – no back row for us! We’ll pick up just where we left off. In the meantime I’m hoping to hear from her each time I detect the feint tinkle if the Mississippi wind chimes she gave me for Christmas one year.
I hope everyone has a joyful Thanksgiving and don’t forget to hug tightly those people you treasure most.
Sent from my iPad