It's Been a While, But the Message Came Through

Monday was our second unusual happening. To me, anyway, given my recent history.

I went to a funeral for my aunt at 4:00. Not my favorite gambling aunt! She's from my dad's side of the family. I sat beside her planning Thursday's casino trip. No, this was the wife of my mom's brother. She was 85. Most of them are gone now. Mom, all three of her brothers,  my dad, and one of the aunts. Nothing makes you miss a departed loved one more than a funeral.

I stopped by the cemetery on the way home. Just for a minute. The Pony and I had stopped on Sunday, too, on the way to Walmart. So convenient for Mom to be on my main travel route! And with a plot on the edge of an inner road, too, so I can have a drive-thru visit without getting out of T-Hoe!

Back home, I went out to the porch to feed Puppy Jack, because The Pony was out and about in his new used car. Hick drove the lawnmower over and parked it by the porch. He sat there with his straw hat, looking like the farmer from that kids' movie Barnyard, talking to me on the front porch pew, while Jack divided his time between us. He's pretty good at negotiating the steps now.

Talk turned to our concerns about The Pony. How he's going to be so far away. Worries about how he will take care of himself. How he's not ready to make major decisions. How he doesn't seem to understand the consequences of his choices. How he's not really good with people. How his grandma would have been so worried about him going off that far. She had a map of Genius's campus, and a schedule of his daily classes. "Just so I will know where he is when I think about him through the day." And Genius is only two hours away.

As we talked, Hick on the (unauthorized new $1700) lawnmower in the shady yard, and me on the blazing hot porch pew in the evening sun...a ladybug flew up from the yard and landed on my chest. A little off center. To the left. Like where you put your hand when pledging allegiance to the flag every Monday morning with the student council president over the intercom if you're a non-retired teacher at Val's former place of employment.

I hear you, Mom.