When we took jobs at USCENTCOM at MacDill AFB in Tampa, the house had passed final inspection (barely) and we took our trips to North Carolina whenever we could spare a weekend; putting all the not so final touches on our future home. These jaunts always involved visits with the Clarkes—dinners, barbecues, walking downtown, Bible study over coffee, gardening, Alex helping and advising Billy on all sorts of projects, me raptly listening to Marianna talking about their very large and close family. We’d marvel about birds, sunsets, autumn colors, and music, share joys and sorrows, and talk about everything and anything. One of my favorite recollections of them is how one of them with find a leaf, a twig, an acorn, a wildflower, and marvel over its simple, intricate beauty.
Marianna and Billy were woven into our lives. We shared precious family joys—the wedding of her granddaughter, Patience, at their mountain home, the birth of each of their grandchildren, then great grandchildren (more than I can count); the birth of our granddaughters, the celebration of our retirement to North Carolina 2014, my dads 90th birthday party. I frequently sought her out to lament my circumstances during difficult times, and received the advice I so needed. She taught me more about prayer and marriage and God’s grace than I could glean from a lifetime of living simply by watching her.
Alex was the sounding board for Billy’s project ideas—an operational model railroad installed in Billy’s study; the perfect position for audiovisual equipment (at least five times); specifications for the ideal desk that, when finally constructed Billy blithely by informed Alex to treat it apart because it was just a prototype; a smaller scale covered bridge, followed by a water wheel and a slough; a widows walk around the top of their home; and the pièce de résistance: the Williamson Creek Road lighthouse. Alex was also the taste tester for Marianna’s dinner casseroles and desserts, and she for his.
When we arrived at her home, there she was, holding her little dog, Annie, waiting in the driveway--then the hugs, oh the hugs--I didn't want her to let go! Oh the memories we shared! Movies we had watched, weddings, the beauty of the mountains in NC. Alex with tears running down his face as he recollected a particularly special evening with them. Marianna lamented how much she missed her husband of 68 years, how she thinks about the beauty he is experiencing in heaven with the Jesus he loved so much here on earth; she brought out a maroon party suit worn by Billy while in Vietnam with his B-66 squadron, and gave it to us to donate to the Brevard Veterans Museum. We brought her up to date on our children and grandchildren, and she talked about their three daughters, what they are doing, and how her daughter, Jenny, mails her a loaf of her homemade sourdough bread every month, raving over how wonderful it is. Amazingly that box from Minnesota arrived while we were visiting, so of course Marianna, the penultimate hostess, prepared a small smorgasbord of various items to go with that special treat.
Hours spent reminiscing flew by far too quickly. We hugged, prayed, and promised to return with Sophie in the fall to take her to see the storied mermaids of Weeki Wachee. Watching her in my rearview mirror as we pulled away I could almost envision Billy standing next to her with his arm encircling her waist as they waved goodbye.
No comments:
Post a Comment