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Southern born, Southern reared. It's a quirky place and we are unique folk... These are my people and these are my stories.

Monday, May 7, 2012

Monday's Musings on All Things Southern

First, let me announce last week's winner: Andy Lee! (Email me and let me know if you'd prefer fiction or nonfiction.)

So, this past weekend I was up in Atlanta. 'lanta, as we often hear her referred to. The "City of Trees," one of her citizens proudly told me.

It was good to be "home." Not that Altanta is my home, but Georgia is and there's just nothing like the sound of a good Atlanta accent. Sweet tea. Wrap-around porches. Sweet salads served with Sunday dinner.


I've gotten into genealogy. After Mother died, I received an obituary from Jonesiana, a newsletter for the descendants of Bridger Jones. Well, I had never heard of Bridger Jones. My uncle (the one I stayed with this past weekend, the family historian) said, "This is all you'll need to join the DAR."

I'm sure there's more, but it launched a search for my family roots. You know what I found out? I come from good stock! I have also learned that I can spend entirely took much time on this project. But I've unearthed treasures.

I've also learned something ... if you want to leave a legacy, you don't start on that project after you die. That's about what you do now. Who you are. How you touch the lives God brings into your path along the journey.

Here's what I know. I'm passionate about those I love. And those I love are passionate about me. Sure, there are some folks I've ticked off along the way. I can name a handful. Folks who'd say rotten things about me, maybe even stand up in a court of law and say them. 

Know what I mean?

But that doesn't make them true. And that doesn't stop me from being who I am. First and foremost, I'm a child of God. The Most High God, as David put it. I love Jesus more than I can say and wish I had more time to just be with Him. You know, crawl into His lap, close my eyes, and hear His heartbeat. Like John the Apostle did. You know that story, right?

And I love my family. My extended family. My brother. My huggy hubby and my children (those I gave birth to and those I didn't). I adore my grandchildren, mainly because they are the BEST grandchildren in the world. And they love me, too. I also love my friends. 

Friends are the flowers in the garden of life.

Cliche but true.

More than anything, I want my legacy to be one of laughter. I've heard my grandmother had a great laugh. Life wasn't always kind, but still ... this is how she is remembered. She loved to laugh. Loved her children.

Like "Miss Eva," I've had a good life, sometimes rocky, but for the most part, I've always found something to laugh about. Or at. 

On my to-do list is to order my headstone (I'm being buried next to my daddy). I've been trying to think what to put on the slab of granite other than name, date of birth, and date of death. Something profound. Or maybe I should just confuse everyone with something that'll make people go "hmmm..."

Maybe I'll watch from heaven and get a real kick out of it.

The laughter continues. 


  1. I've always admired the epitath on an aunt I never got to meet's headstone. She died in her 20's, and it says "A beautiful flower has wilted." I've always thought that was so sweet.

  2. Oh, I love that! :) Thank you for sharing it! Have you ever seen the really old headstones that have a broken link in a chain?

  3. Thank you for sharing, Eva Marie. I love reading your words!

  4. My Mama always said we had to laugh to keep from crying and boy did we ever, when she was alive. The "broken link" is interesting. Where did you see that?
    I'm praising the Lord with you for answered prayers!

  5. Donna,

    In several cemeteries, but mostly older ones.