She is her mama made over. The way she laughs, her profile, the way she loves her kids always as if they are angels and she knows better.
She is daddy’s older sister, three brothers younger than her, brothers that all insisted she never had to do a thing when they were kids. She had her nose in a book while they did the chores.
You can’t believe Red’s boys, the ones with the Irish last name and full of Irish hyperbole. They knew how to push her buttons, they did. She’d muster up a scowl across her face but it never got sympathy, only encouragement for the brothers to get her to laugh. It took all of 2 seconds to for her laugh to tumble out, begrudgingly. Just like her mama.
These were the cousins we grew up around, the ones our lives were more connected with. This is the aunt who had me stay with them the summer mama and daddy’s marriage collapsed in on all of us. The aunt and uncle who took leave from their ministry to go to daddy’s beside when he had his first stroke. They drove from New Orleans to Bakersfield, CA to help because she told me I had babies to take care of.
After daddy died it was the two of them who were at our daughter’s high school graduation and college graduation and weddings, filling in, in seemed, for her first brother that passed too young.
She retells the same stories and don’t even try to stop her because she won’t. The stories come out S-L-O-W these days and we make faces at each other in the waiting. We’re the ones making her laugh these days.
Daddy has gone to glory long ago and mama’s dementia has her lost to us too but aunt Juanita is there. An ordinary woman made beautiful by the spark in her eyes and the love in her heart.
Charm can be deceptive and beauty doesn’t last, but a woman who fears and reverences God shall be greatly praised. Proverbs 31:30 living bible