"Pour libation for your father and mother who rest in the valley of the departed. God will witness your action and accept it. Do not forget this even when you are away from home. For as you do for your parents, your children will do likewise for you." ~~ Egyptian Book of Coming Forth by Day

Wednesday, June 21, 2006

UncaBud, The Rambling Man



Uncle Buddy is my mother's brother and was the only son in his family for a very long time; in fact, I'm older than my youngest uncle, Eddie, but that's another story. This one is about the man who expects to have a pot of coffee on when he comes to visit, the man who always seems to be on a road trip, the man who has a Biblical reference for most situations in life. Uncle Buddy says not to think about the weather - that the effects of heat and cold are both in your head and you make yourself suffer unnecessarily when you ponder the ways of Mother Nature. I reckon he's right. (I wasn't whining much at the football game the other day until I found out it was 98 degrees.) UncaBud is also my genealogy resource on the Robinson side of the family. After Ma passed he told me that he never was one for verbally expressing love,but that he thought it was time to start. Now, he ends our phone conversations with "I love you". I reckon he always did. 

Tuesday, June 20, 2006

Mildred - NOT!



Aunt Ginny's birth certificate said her name was Mildred and that her birthdate was three days earlier than it was. Try explaining that to the Social Security Administration! Let's just say the country doctor had some issues at the time and that all is well now. We know who she is. Virginia Lee Coker, daughter of Pearl, only sister of Harry and Red, surrogate sister and running buddy of my mother. Uncle Tommy called her Bread; was she his Bread of Life, or his Wonder, the other white bread?

Aunt Ginny is the reigning matriarch of the Coker Clan now (and a great genealogy resource!). She has walked this earth for eighty years and has borne both the sadness and joy that comes with that many years. She also bore my father on her back when he complained to my great-grandmother that he was tired of walking.

Her heart and home have always been open to us, still offering refuge when we need it. If you can't find one of us at Ma's house, we're probably at Aunt Ginny's, enjoying the quiet, the air conditioning, or raiding the bar stocked in the 70s and only touched when we're in town (one more Homecoming should clear it out).

We take so many things for granted, especially family. Grandma told me that I could always count on my family no matter what happens and she was right. I am blessed. Thanks, Aunt Ginny, for being part of that blessing.

Monday, June 19, 2006

Born in the Caul





My grandmother told me that Uncle Red was born with a veil, or caul. This is the delicate membrane that encases the fetus. In many cultures, to be born in an unbroken caul is to be marked as endowed with supernatural powers, or to bring luck. It is said that a child born with a veil has the gift of second sight; Grandma said it meant he could see ghosts. I never talked to him enough to know if he thought this was true. He was a man of few words. He would talk to you if you talked to him but I don't remember him ever starting a conversation. If he had a gift for you, he would just hold it out to you, and, maybe, say "Here." There's a rumor that he was once married but I don't know if I'll ever be able to document that. I remember Uncle Red as a reformed drinker who turned to the C.O.G.I.C in his later years. He sat quietly and watched us grow, sometimes sharing the treasure of his smile.

Wednesday, June 14, 2006

Mrs. Coker

June 12, 2006

My mother, Lois Charlene Robinson Coker, died a month ago today. Her death was sudden; she was gone within the time I got the first call informing me that something had happened to her and the time my plane landed in Tulsa, Oklahoma the next afternoon.

I've been working on family history this week and have missed being able to call her and ask questions about people whose names I've run across in census records or just to clarify some information we had talked about in the past. My hand has reached for the phone several times before I remember that she won't answer anymore.