I miss my mother greatly but she left behind some wonderful memories. 

A Simple Life

Saturday night adventures, hot dogs from Burger Carte,

Going to watch Chief Black Eagle wrestle in Oak Hill,

My mother, fists in the air, cheering on her favorite wrestler,

People slurping drinks, crunching popcorn, mesmerized,

Unaware of the traffic, or the passing of time, lost in the moment.

The Grand Ole Opry; Faron Young, George Jones, and Porter Waggoner,

Who done who wrong songs playing on a jukebox, lights flashing,

Local bars, bare and dark, filled with coal miners and dreamers,

Plain people enjoying simple pleasures, being whoever they were,

Walt Disney World with the family on Sunday evening.

Day after day, watching him put on his heavy boots,

Kissing him at the door, sending him off with a lunch bucket,

Deep into the belly of the earth to mine black diamonds,

Watching him until he was completely out of sight,

Then crawling into bed to pray for his safe return.

Then came the waiting rooms, patients in every chair,

Symptoms creeping in along with the wrinkles lining her face,

The doctor spoke of cancer, offered encouragement and pills,

She became the wrestler, fighting off cells, refusing to give up,

Smiling, demanding a hot dog, fists in the air, living until the last breath.

© Dianna Doles Petry

Define Old Age

Photo of Julia Doles

April 2015

Sometimes you wake up thinking, “Well, I made it through another night.”  You are not seeing the sunshine filtering through your window or allowing the peaceful moment to fill your soul.  You spend too much time thinking about your aches and pains, your late relatives, and finances when you should be enjoying just being alive.

Then something, or someone, forces you to stop and take a good long look at yourself. That is what happened to me today. I was out to pick up a few things I needed and started to pass an elderly lady in one of the aisles of the market.  She opened a conversation by asking, “Can you reach that corn way up on the top there? I swear they picked me before I was done growing.”

The lady was about five feet tall with short white hair that was neatly brushed. She was dressed neatly and her eyes were ablaze with determination. As I handed her the can of corn I had just retrieved for her, she said, “My grandson is in here somewhere. He probably found magazines or something. Lord, he’s fifty years-old and you would think he was ready to retire. He spends an hour trying to avoid fifteen minutes of work.”

The grandson appeared at the end of the aisle and walked toward us. He stopped a few feet behind his grandmother as if waiting to see if she would invite him into the conversation or send him scampering outdoors to play. The petite, feisty lady continued, “My daughter, his mother, is a whiner too. Why she’s only seventy years-old and wouldn’t get out of bed if she didn’t get hungry. I tell you, it’s beyond my understanding to tell you what’s happened with the young folks today. I’m ninety-five and I go help her clean up her house at least once a week.”

I have lived most of my life as if I’m expecting some important guest and need to have my life in order before they arrive. I sweep the floors, bathe the pets, clean the windows, and would probably sweep the lawn if I could rid of some of the extra dirt. I never really think about why I do what I do, I just do it. I’m pretty sure this lady never stops to think about living either. She just does it!

I smiled at the lady, told her I was happy to have met her, and walked away feeling as if I had just been given a gift. The road of life can be very bumpy but people like the lady I met today not only help me navigate the road, they pull me back into the right lane of traffic. I sure hope her family makes sure she is well praised this coming Mother’s Day.

© Dianna Doles Petry

4/24/15

Family Memories

Family Memories

I was thinking about my grandmother's house tonight and how her family would gather on the porch. She had never seen a microwave or a computer and she didn't own a single Tiki torch. There was no such thing as an I-Pod, we sang together instead. My grandfather made an appearance in his long-johns when it was time for bed.

My grandmother spread the old kitchen table with fresh garden vegetables, gravy, biscuits, and beans. The aroma of blackberry cobbler filled the air and grandchildren seldom caused unpleasant scenes. Aunts and uncles talked about the past and never let anger stand in the way. Whatever happened yesterday was gone, they started with a fresh attitude each day.

It was just a little four-room house with a garden out in back. Everything was crooked but it didn't matter to Grandma Mac. She loved to hold a new born baby, loved to sit in her porch swing. She talked to us about life and love and never seemed rattled by anything.

My grandpa got up to dance a jig just before he became bedfast. Summers once seemed endless but they're not meant to last. I can still taste the cobbler and ice cream I ate until I had my fill. I feel blessed to have these memories when so many never will.

© Dianna Doles-Petry

9/7/2010