My Southern Heart My Southern Heart -

Remembering Daddy…

Today is Daddy’s birthday. I am wondering if birthdays are celebrated in Heaven. If so – and I’m inclined to think they are – then Mama, Daddy, my sisters Dot and Gerry, Bill – my husband of 39 years and his parents Frank and Bobbie, my maternal and paternal grandparents and all the host of family and friends who’ve gone before are celebrating this sweet and gentle man’s life.

Time has eased the deep pain of losing each of my parents, but I miss them still. I miss my sisters. I miss hearing their voices and their sweet counsel whenever I shared a problem or decision I was facing. I especially miss the times we four sisters had together and all the laughter. I’m thankful that my sister Eunice remains on this earth with me and I’ve told her that I have to go first! Funny, I know, but I was serious!

Christmas of 2011, I had (most of) this blog professionally published as a gift for my children, grandchildren, my sister Eunice and all my nieces and nephews. Needless to say, it was an expensive Christmas but well worth it. I’m better at expressing myself on paper than in person and I wanted my children to know as many of the stories that I could remember.

I’m thankful for a legacy that may not have included an abundance of possessions…but a great deal of love.

Photo above: My youngest with my Dad – his “Papaw” – when he was about three years old.

Happy Birthday, Mama…

Family, My Southern Heart, Reflections

Mama was born on the 4th of July. Every year, the family gathered for a picnic and cookout with all the trimmings in her honor. In later years, it was held at my oldest sister Dot’s house because she had a swimming pool. Memphis is hot in the summertime and the kids loved the pool. Dot would bake a large chocolate sheet cake with a hint of cinnamon and a delicious chocolate icing. Sometimes, she’d decorate the top. It was so very good. My mouth waters just remembering. With the cake, there would be homemade vanilla ice cream, usually my sister Gerry’s specialty. Before dessert, of course, there would be delicious grilled hamburgers, baked beans, potato salad and other wonderful dishes. In later years, we’d sometimes order Memphis barbeque at its best – from Corky’s.

Yes, I know that July 4th represents Independence Day…but not to me. To me, it is Mama’s birthday. The day is filled with memories that make me wish I could turn the clock back and we’d all be together celebrating. Little did I know then, how quickly time would pass…

Dianne and Gerry at Mama’s 4th of July birthday party at Dot’s house. About 1990.

Legacy…

Family, My Southern Heart, Reflections

Today is my Daddy’s birthday and I’m missing him. He was born on February 17, 1905…the youngest of seven children. His father and grandfather before him were farmers in the rich farmland of the Mississippi Delta. With a legacy bestowed by their Scottish immigrant ancestors, they had strong work ethics, Christian values and believed in the strength of family.

I never heard my Daddy raise his voice in anger or utter a curse word in my entire life. He was a strong but gentle man. As the father of four daughters, he was mellow and laid-back – I supposed he had to be. With a quick and ready smile, he had a good sense of humor. As children, my niece Sharon and I would get to laughing at the supper table and could easily get him to laugh. On more than a few occasions, we were sent from the table until we regained our composure.

He and Mama spent a lifetime together. After a severe stroke claimed her speech and altered her personality, he was kind and patient with her. In the last few months of his life, one of his favorite country songs that he would listen to often was “I’ll Go to My Grave Loving You” by the Statler Brothers. He loved her and us, his four daughters, with all his heart. He also loved his grandchildren. I just wish that he could have lived long enough to meet my grandchildren. My oldest grandson has my Daddy’s olive complexion, dark brown eyes and very dark brown hair. My Dad was the only grandparent or great-grandparent with those features, and I love the fact that my grandson inherited them.

Daddy was an “old-time” Democrat, which my son says today would, most likely, be the Libertarian party. He believed in searching for the candidate who would be the strongest leader…the one with the most integrity and character. He was also not fond of “big government”. I’ve wondered what he would have to say about the November election and which candidate he would choose. I think I have an idea.

I’m truly thankful for the legacy that my parents left my sisters and me…

Happy birthday, my sweet boy…

Family, Reflections

I was there when you arrived HOME from Ethiopia after a long two day journey with your Mom and Dad. You must have been tired, but you didn’t cry. You carefully looked us all over – your new family – from the safety of Mommy’s arms. Those dark eyes danced and then you smiled, revealing dimples that stole my heart. Two years later and I am indeed your Grandmommy! Happy Birthday, my sweet boy!

For my grandson’s third birthday, I chose the Hallmark Curious George recordable book and the Curious George plush character that talks when you press the toe (loudly). I also recorded the story in my voice. My daughter says he plays the storybook all the time. I watched on iPad FaceTime as he opened them and played the book. For just a moment, there was a look of confusion as to how I could accomplish being in two places at once, but then he picked the book up and hugged it to his chest. I will be there for a visit in a few short weeks and I can’t wait!

Fifty-five years and a lock of hair…

My Southern Heart, Reflections

A box came down from the attic today that I knew held some treasures. There were letters from my older son and my daughter when they were away at college. There were letters I had written to my parents after we moved to Kentucky. There was a card to my older son at college written by my third grade son telling his older brother that he “didn’t like being an only child” and that he missed him. The tears were falling, of course, as I continued to sort through these priceless treasures…

Then I spotted the envelope written in Mama’s hand. On the front it read “Dianne McGregor. Lock of hair from September 28, 1957”. 55 years?! I took the envelope outside into the sunlight and carefully pulled out the lock of hair and the small 55 year old rubber band. (For a moment, I felt just like Bruce Willis when he meets himself as a child in the Disney movie, “The Kid”.)

I know now why my youngest has beautiful strawberry blonde hair (besides the fact his two grandmothers did as well). I held the proof in my hands. My hair was clearly blonde. Strawberry blonde.

A year or so ago, I tried having my hair a darker brown. It didn’t feel right. It didn’t feel like me. Someone asked me, “what makes you think you’re a blonde?” Besides my coloring and my memory? I just knew.

So, today, I held the 55 year old lock of hair in my hands. It is the exact same color hair as several of my granddaughters. I was eleven years old on September 28th, 1957…the same age as one of my granddaughters.

I love the study of genetics. The link from one generation to the next. The circle of life…