"I can't find much good about getting old," my mother always said. "And, it's boring. So, let's don't talk about it."
On this day, many, many moons later, December 5, 2023, heating up a cup of coffee, then letting my doggie Lettie Lou outside to eat her breakfast, I tended to disagree with my mother. My birthday. A day to reflect on the past, and to look forward to tomorrow.
I was up and about before son Bob and his wife Gail, who had come in from Tennessee and were staying with me. The early morning sun streaming through the den window, to get my day started, I began with a familiar five-fingered prayer, holding up my thumb. "Thank you, God. Getting to spend time with family is a great and blessed tradition."
I went on to the second and third fingers, praying for our country, our president, our soldiers, and people who trouble me. In just a short while I had covered my thumb and three fingers.
I gazed toward the backyard where Lettie Lou, ears hanging over the bowl worked on her breakfast. I drew in a deep breath.
"'Precious memories, how they linger, how they satisfy my soul.' I have so much to be thankful for."
Closing my eyes, I came to the fifth, and little finger. My mind took a walk through old memories, and I slid into the past. I see familiar faces and once again say goodbye to my two daughters, Linda and Pat, granddaughters Brent and Lindsay, and then to that dear man I was married to, my Willard. I feel the shadow of my missing husband, and oh how I long to see him in his lounge chair. And to hear him say, "Lottie Bee. It's your day. We'll do whatever you want to."
I would be with family on this day, though. Son Bill and his wife, Binnie Jo; Bob and Gail Boggan.
That evening, dear friend, Sabrina Comola planned a birthday party for me. Brother Alvin, his wife Becky, and my sister-in-law Jan joined us.
I was so blessed.
****
And when nighttime came, the highlight of our evening was when musician Vince Barranco played "Happy Birthday" on his digital piano, with my dear family singing along with him.
After the song, Bob took the floor. "I have something to read," he said.
At Lottie’s 90th Birthday Party…
Tonight, this night of 5 December
Is a date we all remember,
And if this date you should forget,
The guilt you feel, you will regret.
So, we’re here to celebrate the birthday of
A special person whom we all love,
She was born to this world, Lottie Eleyne Brent
And she’ll tell you herself she was heaven sent.
And if that story you don’t believe
She’ll write stories about you that are make-believe.
So, say nice things and have some fun,
And you may end up in the Northside Sun.
As a child our matron and mother
Spent endless hours torturing her brother;
And for those of you who express doubt
She told me this from her own mouth.
And in spite of guilt she harbors to this day
We’ll agree Alvin and Lottie turned out okay.
Now Lottie rode horses when she was a girl,
Until allergies to them changed her world.
At Central High she was Homecoming Queen
And everyone loved her in that high school scene.
Her father, Alvin, founded Brents Drugs
A Mississippi icon we all still love.
Then Lottie went to Ole Miss her favorite college
But we can’t say it was purely for knowledge;
Instead, she ran for cheerleader of the student body
And her slogan was: “Hoddy Toddy Vote for Lottie.”
On that, and her personality, she won
And made many friends and memories and had loads of fun.
Eventually she and Willard would marry;
They had his and hers and theirs to share.
They built a cabin on Hoover Lake
And on many occasions, we, they would take.
There is one occasion that lives in family lore,
When Red, our caretaker, was burning pine straw and more.
Lottie had potato chips in a bag for a recipe,
And was backing over them in her car to crush them you see;
But when Lottie backed up that station wagon
On top of the fire, Red’s arms were flagging;
He was saying to her in his dialect,
This famous family phrase, which was so direct:
“Miss Lottie, Miss Lottie, you are on the fire!”
And she just said, “huh?” and focused on her tire.
“Miss Lottie, Miss Lottie, you are on the fire!”
She rolled down her window, the situation was dire.
Finally, she realized to her great shame,
She’d backed that old Buick on top of the flames.
She floored the accelerator, all excited,
And got the gas tank off the fire before it ignited.
Needless to say, her recipe was done,
So, we went to the A & W and thought that was fun.
So many stories like this I could tell,
But if I did you know I’d catch hell.
But just this once let’s have some fun
And let’s recognize Lottie in the Northside Sun.
In conclusion, Lottie, we honor you tonight;
On your 90th birthday in glorious candlelight
You’ve given us life, and love, and laughter,
Through the good and the bad and the great hereafter
We love you Lottie, you make our lives better.
We love you always, come now whatever.
Happy 90th birthday, Lottie!
And to all, a good night.
***
Home again, lights out in the back bedroom, only the doggie and I awake, I let Lettie Lou out to do her business, then sank into my lounge chair.
The party had ended. I am the matriarch of an imperfect, delightful, family, and I am so grateful for the love and compassion they have given me in so many ways. I cherish my past days and memories.
Finished with my last swallow of a glass of champagne I'd brought with me from the party, I let the dog in.
"A lot of people don't even know how to count to 90." Her tail whipping my legs, I leaned over and stroked my doggie.
"I didn't either, Lettie Lou.
Until today."
