~another day spent in the Blue Ridge~

The day was a grey one - a colorless, cloudy sky was all we saw as we crossed Swift Run Gap on our way to lunch in the Shenandoah Valley with a close family friend.  We were visiting the spouse of a friend who had died a number of years ago now of Lou Gehrig's disease (or ALS) - and sitting there with her, telling stories about her husband, I couldn't help but miss his tenor voice booming from some part of the house, and his deep laughed that warmed you up from the inside (I always described him as someone who had the ability to warm up even the coldest of rooms).  I remember once arriving at his home and Pavarotti was playing loudly and his wife was calmly saying (aka yelling) for him to 'turn that stuff down' and then he looked at me, and then back to his wife and said 'but Alice, dear, we have a guest that also believes that Pavarotti should only be listened to loudly'.  Tom and I emailed (me, using my fingers and a keyboard, him using a voice-activated system) up until three days before his death.  I miss him still, every day, but the stories that he left behind for us to still tell (over and over again) are wonderful ones.

~~~~~

Every family has little stories, odd symbolic reminders of the past, and on a pond where Swift Run Gap drops down to the Shenandoah Valley is one such reminder for my family.  For ever since I could remember, there have been two pink flamingos standing in the middle of a small pond (I thought that there used to be a small island in the middle, but perhaps not?) - and during one such family trip over the Blue Ridge and into the valley, my brother's then-spouse noticed the flamingos and exclaimed while pointing them out to us 'I didn't know they lived this far north' and those of us in the car couldn't do anything but agree (at least for a second or two) and then start laughing.  Now, whenever we find ourselves on this road, we see the pink flamingos and ponder their remarkable survivability during the colder-than-southern-Florida-winters.  And then we laugh and remember that drive years ago.   

~~~~~

Just as today was about to end - the sun come out and we saw a wonderful sunset over Fray's Ridge, just behind the two sour cherry trees and the bluebird house (that is home to several 'batches' of baby bluebirds each summer) in my parent's back yard.  The light in the oak forest was next to perfect for fifteen minutes or so - and after I watched the sun set, I went inside to find my Mom at the dining room window, watching the growing shades of pink and blue filter through the trees.  This is my last evening in Virginia for this holiday season, and tonight I feel grateful that my family was all together, that my Mother was happy and even happier because she cooked Christmas Day dinner for her family, just as she always does.  That is all she wanted:  for things to be normal, for us to eat too much and still ask for a piece of one of her homemade cakes (german chocolate or six-layer yellow cake with chocolate frosting or fruitcake), for people to disperse when it was time to clear the table, and for my brother to wear his new sweater all day and to walk around in her new and soft and warm slippers, and to tell my Father to keep certain boxes because she might need them next year.  I don't want to think about how she will feel tomorrow morning as we all drive off to our other lives, the deep snow of my brother's home in Vermont, the busy streets of my niece's life in Boston, and the salt air of my soon-to-be demolished home in South Carolina.  But at least for four days and five nights we kept cancer once again outside in the cold, hopefully shivering in the woods behind the house -- and we'll keep it there for as long as we possibly can.    

Comments

[John B.]

Welcome back, Pam--it sounds as though your time with your family was time very well spent . . . and gathered into your memory.

Also, thank you for the kind Christmas wishes you left me over at my blog. They were most appreciated.

[layanee]

Pam: That is a most beautiful way to describe someone! One of life's highest compliments I would think! Glad you had a great time. Loved your lichen post also. They are like snowflakes!