Day of the Dead

Home sick with a stomach bug. There are plenty of things I SHOULD be accomplishing with this extra time, but...well, emphasis on the "sick". I kind of just want to stay in bed for a while until I have to head out for other jobs.

I love Halloween. Yesterday was a whole lot of fun - for the first time in my life, I was in a house in an actual neighborhood for the holiday, so I got to see all KINDS of trick-or-treaters. Totally made my night. I also loved seeing Scott and Jason handing out candy - at one point they were doing so at the same time, and we think they may have been mistaken for a couple, judging by the smiles and waves from the parents of the kids, which is just adorable. After all that, I ended up winning third place in a (small) costume contest, which was just awesome - I've never come anywhere close to having the best costume. Then again, I've never entered that many contests.

So, today is Day of the Dead, and I've been seeing people post about their loved ones. It made me realize that I've lost a lot of people that were very important in my life...which reminds me just how lucky I am to have had SO many important people in my life.

Granny, who I barely remember, but still dream about sometimes and still wish to be just like. I miss you, and I am absurdly pleased whenever anyone points out that I have your legs or that my pie crusts taste just like yours did. I might miss you the most because to this day I wish I had gotten more time with you.

Papaw, who used to pass the time with me just sitting on the front porch watching cars go by on the semi-distant highway, guessing what color car would come next. You used to let me win at checkers when I was tiny, until I got mad when I realized you were throwing the game and refused to play with you for a solid month. Somehow what I have of yours is crooked pinky fingers, oddly shaped feet, and determination.

Grandmother, so petite and spunky in this oddly genteel way. I miss your garden and your cookies, and the witty, almost flirty way you joked with people. My mother likes to say "Mary Garrison will never die as long as Mandy's around" whenever I start to leave - because I start to leave at least ten minutes before I actually get out the door, then dawdle around saying goodbye and gathering up things, just like you.

Aunt Doris, always gentle and quiet, but still able to banter with your sister about who got to be the "boss" on any given day. When everyone else laughed at me for wanting to be an actress, and my Mama jokingly said, "Well, if you end up starvin' in New York, don't come running to me!", you put your arm around me and said, "Don't worry, honey, as long as I have something to eat, you will, too." I will never forget that, or our walks, or the way you talked to the barn cats.

Aunt Phyllis, who called me your "sleepin' buddy" because you always shared my bed when you'd come visit. You always kept me awake with your snoring, but I was so happy you'd come to visit, I didn't mind.

Uncle Bill, you and I shared a love of those little cinnamon twists Grandmother would make out of leftover dough. I remember how you used to get down in the floor and play with me, and how sad I was when you died before you got to see me driving a car, since it would have made you proud to see me in that old blue Ford Fairmont.

Roseanne, Mrs. Sheppard, the oldest friend I had in both senses of the word. I guess it's all right to tell you now that I never actually liked those Kit-Kat bars you always gave me, but I was always so pleased that you  thought enough of me to give them to me. I had the florist put one in the flower arrangement for your funeral. I still have the little horse figurine you gave me, and every birthday card you ever sent to me, and I miss your stories so, so much. I tell them to myself sometimes just so I won't forget them, especially the one about the boys playing guitar outside the sleeping porch when you were in boarding school, and how your daddy had to walk to Burnsville in the rain to get a cab so you could be taken to Asheville to have your appendix out, and how your daddy and my great-granddaddy were such good friends, and how your oldest boy died in a car crash. Good and bad and silly and important, I miss hearing you tell them to me.

Aunt Clara, how you were always so mild until something got you angry, but you never spoke an unkind word to me. Uncle Carl, I once mentioned that I liked the applesauce cake you made, and from then on you made one for me every time I came home from college until you weren't able anymore. Aunt Bert, Uncle Tuck, Luther (the first vehicle I ever drove was your old white truck in the cow pasture), Conrad (everyone in our family still calls you "Conard" because that's how Papaw said your name)....

And Krysten. Oh, Krysten, it amazes me that losing you still pains me so much when we hadn't even spoken in years, except on Facebook. I don't even know if we would have been friends as adults. But I see you at preschool all the time, whenever I see two little girls playing pretend together, and I recognize that their play is so similar to ours. I miss your cheeky smile, and the way you used to scream with laughter when my Daddy would tickle your feet, and how you were so spunky. And bossy. Yes, you were bossy, always telling me that you got to choose what we did because you were older by a whole ten months. Mud pies and hay bales and forts, and forts made of hay bales, and hunting for new baby kittens in the barn loft, and watching Disney movies on rainy days, and dancing to Boot Scootin' Boogie in my living room. I remember spending the night at your house over the years, and it seemed so fancy to me, then! You had a waterbed and a Barbie dollhouse, and you lived in a neighborhood, which was so foreign to me. Our white tennis shoes Mama bought us at Roses that we painted with puff paint - mine were ladybugs, yours were bumblebees. And oh, how we could fight! I vividly remember you standing in the back yard, little hands balled up into fists by your sides while we argued with each other...we had been arguing for several minutes, at least, standing there in a face-off near the cherry tree, neither one backing down, until something dawned on me and I asked, "Krysten, what are we fighting about, again?" You just stopped, the frown left your face and was slowly replaced with a grin, and you said, "I have no idea." We both laughed so hard at how silly it all was, we nearly cried. We had a really good childhood together.

I am so lucky to have loved so much.



I've heard it said
That people come into our lives for a reason
Bringing something we must learn
And we are led
To those who help us most to grow
If we let them
And we help them in return
Well, I don't know if I believe that's true
But I know I'm who I am today
Because I knew you

Like a comet pulled from orbit
As it passes a sun
Like a stream that meets a boulder
Halfway through the wood
Who can say if I've been changed for the better?
But because I knew you
I have been changed for good

It well may be
That we will never meet again
In this lifetime
So let me say before we part
So much of me 
Is made of what I learned from you
You'll be with me
Like a handprint on my heart
And now whatever way our stories end
I know you have re-written mine
By being my friend...

Like a ship blown from its mooring 
By a wind off the sea
Like a seed dropped by a skybird
In a distant wood
Who can say if I've been changed for the better?
But because I knew you
Because I knew you
I have been changed for good

And just to clear the air
I ask forgiveness
For the thing I've done you blame me for

But then, I guess we know
There's blame to share
And none of it seems to matter anymore

Like a comet pulled from orbit
As it passes a sun
Like a stream that meets a boulder
Halfway through the wood

Like a ship blown from its mooring 
By a wind off the sea
Like a seed dropped by a bird in the wood

Who can say if I've been 
Changed for the better?
I do believe I have been
Changed for the better
And because I knew you...
Because I knew you...
Because I knew you...
I have been changed for good.