Leaving after dark and flying west from Jackson my stomach swooped a few times as the plane dropped up and down like a bouncing tennis ball on a concrete court. Eyes closed, pushed back in the airplane seat, I heard, not the loud hum of engines, but the echo of old songs singing in my head.
"With a full crew aboard and our trust in the Lord," came to mind.
My companions on this trip, son Bill, daughter-in-law Binnie Jo, and Binnie Jo's mother Jan, who is also my good friend and I were all going on an Alaskan cruise. We had booked Budget Tickets to Seattle, and we were sitting in the rear of the plane for our all night flight.
Before we boarded our ship, the Norwegian Bliss, the three of us were looking forward to a visit with family who had recently moved out west
When we landed in Seattle, grandson Mark, and his wife Jennifer, picked us up. Their doors and hearts opened wide we spent several wonderful days in Maple Valley, Washington with their girls, Laney and Kaitlyn, and their dogs, Beans and Rice (I was afraid to ask what had happened to Red).
As I have done many times through the years, I couldn't help but think, I am blessed, so much of my life is with family. We laugh, do some fussin', and maybe even a little bit of cussin', but we mostly do it as one, even down to the grands, the greats and the add-ons.
We loved our several days with Mark and the girls. Our special time with them passed all too quickly.
The day before we were to board our ship we were also fortunate to have dinner with some of our western cousins who came to visit us back in Mississippi, many, many moons ago.
Dining with those kinfolks, Brent, Scott and his wife Melissa, we started remembering the olden days and ways and laughing about a few long ago, but never to be forgotten family moments with each other. Their mother, Wanda Jean (who has gone on to her heavenly reward) was not only my California cousin, but also my dear friend and on this trip out west, I reminded her family of a time when they all came to me in Mississippi.
Brent and Scott's mother, Wanda Jean (pronounced Wander back home in Mississippi) was originally from Clinton. Her father was a traveling minister, and when Wanda was only four she and her brother Charles, who was three, toured the southeast, performing in their father's evangelistic services. Wanda played the snare drums, her younger sibling a tambourine and they sang duets, "Jesus Loves Me" and "I Love to Tell the Story."
But that was many years ago when she was a child.
When a grownup Wanda moved out west, she became a confirmed Californian, and soon she was helping part of her family leave the east coast and relocate to the west. It was an entourage consisting of Wanda, her sons and a daughter-in-law, four grandchildren, one dog, one cat, and three lizards. On their way through Dixieland, they had a planned stop-over in Mississippi to stay with husband Willard and me for a few days. Wanda Jean and her family wanted to visit her old home place in Clinton, then the National Park in Vicksburg and Lakewood Cemetery where her parents were buried.
On their way to Mississippi, going through Virginia, the U-Haul-It truck the family was driving had a major gasoline spill: the sheriff's department, four fire trucks, an ambulance, and a local TV crew flashed and blared to the scene.
One of her grandsons, who had never been south before turned to Wanda. "Everybody here talks like they've been on that TV show with Gomer Pyle," he said.
"You haven't heard anything yet. Wait'll we make Mississippi," she replied.
Unfortunately, when the family made the local 1 p.m. news, they made it, not only with the gas spill, but also with their remarks.
When our relatives finally drove further down south, and on into Jackson, tragedy struck. Ignatius, one of their three pet lizards died; Femmy their cat, couldn't take the Mississippi heat and had to be hospitalized with I.V.'s, and their black lab, Madison got lost.
With the lizard's remains taken care of by the vet and the cat in the hospital, Wanda searched for their dog close to where Hinds County turns into Madison.
White, fluffy clouds floated overhead and bees buzzed in the thick clover around her feet while my cousin roamed down the street calling, "Madison, Madison, you're making Wanda sad. I need you, Madison."
With a loud screech, a local TV news vehicle slammed on its brakes at the intersection of Old Canton and County Line. A reporter stepped from the car. "Lady, if Hinds County and our local politics are doing this to you, I'd like to take your picture and do an interview for the 10:00 news."
"I don't know what you're talking about, sir. I'm sad. I'm looking for Madison."
"Just take a few more steps and you're home free." The man raised his camera and focused. "Your accent's not southern, but tell me why you're so overwrought that you're crying and looking for Madison."
Wanda's grandson who had joined her by this time turned to the reporter. "Grandma." He shook his head sadly, pointed his finger at the camera, and spoke in a loud, firm voice. "That man. He chases cars and sirens."
"I beg your pardon," the reporter sputtered. "You've got the wrong station. That's not our modus operandi."
"Fahgit Madison! An don't you dah snap owh pitcha." Wanda's old, tabled southern accent spilled out. She grabbed her grandson's arm. "We all had bettah cut owh losses and hightail it outta heah raight now. Califawnau, heah we come!"
"Grandma. You sound like Gomer Pyle." His face fire engine red in the Mississippi heat Wanda's grandson snickered into his hand. "With store-bought teeth."
My western cousins, traveling companions, the grands and I all burst out laughing.
"Bless our southern hearts, this business of not being able to go from point A to point B without misadventures seems to be part and parcel of being a member of this family's DNA," I said. "In other words, you can't swim out of the family gene pool."
Scott glanced at his watch. Our time together had sped by. "We'd better hit the road. It's late, and we have a pretty good drive ahead of us to get home tonight."
With affectionate embraces our visitors bade us farewell.
"You'd better go on upstairs." Jennifer nodded to Laney and Kaitlynn. "It's past your bedtime."
"We'll be boarding ship in the morning." Jan stretched and yawned. "So for now, it's goodnight from me."
Hands at his sides, elbows stretched into a wing-shape, Bill drew in a long breath and said slowly. "Remember the hymns your cousins Wanda and Charles sang at their dad's church services when they were little kids?"
I'm surprised to feel tears running down my cheeks. "Yes, I do remember," I say. "Some of their old words have stayed close beside me all the way."
With the echo of those old hymns singing in my ears I cross my arms over my chest, as if to hold them next to my heart. "They satisfied my longings in so many ways."
"I know this to be true," my son said, rocking back on his heels. "There's a divinity that shapes our ends. And on that note, let us all hit the sack."
