Yang Girly Girl

“…and as the journey of my life shall end, I will sit here and serve tea to friends.”

———T.S. Eliot from “Portrait of a Lady”

It seems anymore that the only time I post anything on this blog is when someone close to me dies.  It’s happened again.

Pam Shinkle, sometimes known as “SledgePammer”, passed away two weeks ago unexpectedly.  She died from a myriad of natural causes, if you can call disease natural. 

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“Happy Father’s Day.”  The card was written in faded crayon on a dog eared, torn piece of construction paper.  I probably wrote that in Kindergarten.  Inside the card, it said   “Fathers are good, Love, Linda.”  I chuckle at the simplicity of that statement:  direct, to the point, and honest, much like my dad, Bob Travis; much like the way he lived his life

A month ago, I got “the” call from my brother, the one that implored me to get to my dad’s house as soon as I could.  As usual, I thought it would be a false alarm, and that Daddy would recover as he always did, and we’d be spending the time laughing about the close call.  It didn’t happen that way this time.

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Every Christmas, we haul in the Christmas Boxes from the garage, in the hopes that they contain Christmas stuff.  Most years they do.  This year, they did not.

I had forgotten that I was out of town last year when the Christmas décor was taken down and packed away.  I had the utmost trust in my husband to put the ornaments, wreaths garlands, and lights in their designated boxes.  While I appreciate his sedulous efforts, I had no idea how the entire process could turn apocalyptic.

It probably started with whatever road racing was on SPEED TV during the takedown. 

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