 I’m listening to saved messages on my cell phone. Do you ever save the voice messages of the ones you love? I do. I don’t know why. I just do. And so, I just pulled up the latest message that I have from my dear Aunt Lois. I listened and laughed, through tears. “Heh girl. It’s your little old aunt, who lives in a little old house on a little old lot (my uncle’s voice says something in the background) – with a little old man he says! Well, you’re SUPPOSED to be available when I call. I’m not sure what to do with this!” Yesterday was the funeral for my precious Aunt Lois Wyrick. On Saturday, she died suddenly while having breakfast with the love of her life, my uncle, at their regular Saturday restaurant. The news was a shock to us all. Nobody is ever prepared for that kind of suddeness. She was 88 years young with a sharp wit, crystal clear memory and the will to go square dancing, though her body said, “I don’t THINK so”. Aunt Lois was an inspiration, an encourager, a teacher – the epitome of the strong, southern woman. She mentored many a young woman, always ready with a scripture and a life lesson. I was one of those women. She and I spent hours on the phone, and cheek to cheek when Mr. Fix-It and I would make the long trek to Georgia, discussing faith and life always with humor and laughter. She embraced our little Ellie dog and always asked if we were bringing her to entertain her. Ellie would lay at her feet, or at the feet of my uncle, and wait for a word from either one of them so she could pound her tail in appreciation.  Aunt Lois walked with me at a very tough time in my life and held counseling sessions with me from 850 miles away. She encouraged me to start my business and had not a few brilliant ideas. She gave me my first huge order and gushed over the presentation of the packaging. She always made me feel like I could do anything and that whatever I did and do is important. She let me know that she was proud of me and of the older woman I have become.  My aunt and I were partners in crime at antiquing. My poor uncle followed meekly behind us, clutching his wallet in fear. My aunt fostered my love of antique, cobalt blue glassware and had a collection that she proudly displayed in front of a window, so that it cast beams of blue across the room in the morning sun. Our personal contest was to proudly find the best bargain of the century and then convince each other that life would never be the same if one or the other did not purchase the item and carry it home, to the chagrin of our husbands. I would talk her into pieces of crystal that she would purchase for her crystal collection from which she always gifted many brides who were fortunate to benefit from Aunt Lois’ good taste. I also talked her into a dining room suite that was purchased for her granddaughter’s new home. That furniture wasn’t much to look at, but when the granddaughter got hold of it and plied the hereditary artistic eye of her mom and grandmother, that suite took on a new appearance which graced the dining room with beauty. Aunt Lois talked me into a set of hand cut stemware that I have treasured for years.  Of course, she – with her sense of humor – most recently talked me into another set of stemware which I’m thinking is a source of laughter for her now. I am at a loss at what to do with these things.  A prolific writer, Aunt Lois shared my love of writing and I have posted some of her writing here, as well as our experiences shared on our many trips to their home. She wrote for a Georgia publication and included some of my writing and experiences in her pieces. Between my aunt and my dad, who also has a gift of the word, I feel that I have been left a legacy of family history that assures that generations will always know the roots, the heritage, the stories and the humor of our varied and colorful family tree. There is no greater gift than written memories passed on from generation to generation.  I could write so much more, but suffice it to say that my aunt was well-loved and most admired. As I wrote on Facebook , “She accepted me lock, stock and barrel, warts and all. She loved me and encouraged me to not be afraid to make a leap of faith. She lovingly supported me in my walk with Christ, creating a bond of faith between us that gives me no doubt that she is having those discussions with Christ right now!!…Though I rejoice that Aunt Lois is at peace with God, is whole and not infirm anymore and knows the true peace and joy that we, as Christians, look forward to with yearning, I am still heartbroken and sad for her family, especially Uncle Ed, and for me, because a vibrant part of our lives is now missing.” Aunt Lois’ message on my phone ends with this: “Hope things are well. I love you much, honey. Bye”…..I love you too, Aunt Lois. Bye for now.  |
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I am so sorry for your loss. She sounds like she was a very special person.
I very much enjoyed your tribute to your aunt. I feel like I knew her, now. I’m sorry she’s gone and you miss her, but I know she’s smiling down at you from Heaven – when she’s not busy square dancing, that is.
You bet, Kristen!! Thank you. 🙂
Thanks, darling cousin.
You’re welcome, most precious cousin!!! 🙂 You all are very special.
What a blessing she was to you. your tribute made me think of my Aunt Ginnie-a blessing to me.
May God comfort you in your sorrow.
Thank you, Loralie
Very nice tribute MB. Good people remembering good people is always heartwarming. Thanks for sharing. Sorry about the loss of such a wonderful person from your life. Gotta go now. Tears welling up…
Jim (aka Hawkeye)
Ahhh Honey, I’m so sorry for your lose But what a Joy it is to know our loved one’s are waiting and planning a party for us when we arrive. Blessings and comfort to you and your family, especially Uncle Ed.
Thanks Hawkeye. 🙂
Thank you, Herdog.
Very nice post. I just stumbled upon your blog and wished to mention that I’ve really loved surfing around your blog posts. After all I’ll be subscribing to your feed and I hope you write once more soon!|
What a wonderful tribute to my mom. I miss her so much and I know you do too. She was a special lady and will always be in my heart.
Cathy, I do miss her so very much. I catch myself all the time thinking that I need to call her and tell her something and I can’t. I guess I’ll call you!!! 🙂