rekkidblogga

Mommy

Mommy died early Friday morning. She'd been fighting stage four Hodgkin's Disease for years and, tough as she was, the disease finally overtook her. I hate that. It isn't right that someone with such a real zest for life, someone so ebullient and just plain fun to be around isn't here with us anymore. It hurts that she passed away in pain.

To those of us in The Group, they've always just been Mommy and Daddy - never really Mrs. Rafferty or Mr. Rafferty and certainly not Joan or Jim. (This is the South; that's not proper here. You show respect.) They're Vanessa's parents but they adopted us, too, and sent us Christmas cards, treated us like we were their kids when we were all in college together.

A party at Thom and Vanessa's brightened when Mommy and Daddy dropped by. I'd camp out with Mommy on a couch and dish. Mommy and my mama met a few times and got along fine, talking about the old days when ladies dressed up for a night out at the club. They were both women who understood the value of a well-made martini back in the '60s.

If Vanessa was Daddy's girl, Daddy was Mommy's baby. I'd housesit for Vanessa and Thom back in college and Mommy would call me and talk to me for a couple of hours at a time. I enjoyed the conversation, which was always intelligent, witty and sparkling. I'd hear tales of their life while Daddy was in the Army and Mommy spoke with pride about "The Colonel" and how he was Daddy to her two children from her first marriage. Daddy, not her first husband, was her true love.

Vanessa, Thom, T.J., then the youngest grandchild in the family, and Daddy were standing on the tee that July 4th morning. All excellent golfers, they were carrying on a Rafferty family tradition: Getting in early morning Independence Day golf before breakfast at the Fort McPherson Golf Club. I'd been invited to come along. Mommy and I were relaxing in the golf cart, watching as the four began taking their turns teeing off in the above order.

Finally, Daddy stood at the tee alone, a mild wind blowing his white hair as he stared down the fairway into the sun. It was completely silent. Daddy stiffened and readied the driver like a pro. I glanced over at Mommy, who was watching her husband with a broad smile. So proud. So proud of Daddy, of her family. She leaned over to me and whispered into my ear.

"This is when he shines."

posted by rekkidbraka @ 12:47 PM