Momma and Daddy--My earliest memory of my mother must have happened when I was around age 2. I was sitting in her lap and she was cuddling me. She wore a sun dress with a full skirt. The pattern was water mills (this was the mid-sixties). I think she was singing "In the Good Old Summertime". There must be a reason I associate that song with the "water mill" sun dress. Momma waited until she was in her thirties to marry: certainly unusual in a time when most women were wives and mothers by age 25. She also had a career. At the time of her marriage she had been working in a hospital as a lab technician for 15 years. She made good money, had a lot of friends, and a great wardrobe. It took a pretty special man for her to give up single life. But then she is a pretty special lady herself. She has faced much adversity in her life. She lost her father at a young age, and saw both her sisters suffer in terrible marriages. One was married to an abusive man who may have been responsible for her death. Her other sister was an alcoholic who died in jail. Momma's extended family is marked by alcholism, suicide and mental illness. She is a brave woman.
Like I said, it took a very special man to motivate her to give up single-hood. Actually, "special" doesn't begin to do him justice. I wish every girl could have a daddy like mine was. He adored my mother, and worshipped his "little girls". The only thing he loved more than us was his God. The son of a holiness preacher (Methodist) and a school teacher, he made teaching his career. For him, it was a calling. He gave all he had for his students. There are some folks out there who are fine men and women instead of inmates and unwed mothers because of Daddy.
My sister and I were very fortunate to have been brought up my these two people. They instilled in us solid values and spoiled us with love. They tought us compassion and to care about justice. Their greatest legacy is their faith in God. We were never rich except in the things that matter. They weren't perfect parents, but they were close enough for us.
I am still single (some of my friends are grandparents!), but if the Lord should bless me with a husband (and I pray He will), I have two great role models to follow who left me a great recipe for a happy marriage.
September 29 is Momma's 77th birthday, and the 24th is the 10th anniversery of Daddy's "homegoing". So Happy Birthday, Momma, and Daddy, I'll see you over yonder! I love you both!

I am looking at a card on my desk. It features a pen and ink drawing of a boat. The title of the picture is "Biloxi Schooner". I bought these cards at a little art gallery in Bay St. Louis, Mississippi. The gallery owner was the artist, and she closed her shop a couple of years ago due to ill health. I miss it.
As a college student in Hattiesburg, Mississippi, the Gulf Coast (only an hour away) was a favorite weekend road trip destination.Bay St. Louis is my favorite Mississippi coastal town. It rivals Sausalito, California as a mecca for artists.The late historian and author Stephen Ambrose called Bay St. Louis home, and so does legendary New Orleans jazz clarinetist Pete Fountain.
Early in my first year of school, my cousin came to spend the weekend. We spent the day in Bay St. Louis. She was as charmed by this lovely coastal town as I was. We poked around the shops and galleries all morning, feasted on gumbo and soft shell crab for lunch at Trapani's, a family-owned cafe across the street from the beach.Trapani's is a great little place. The owner's grown kids make up most of the wait staff, and believe me: the sons provide some very nice scenery! After lunch, sat on the beach in the afternoon sun for a couple of hours. We ended our day on the deck of a bar that looked over the water drinking gin and tonics. It was a perfect day in every way. I spent a balmy December day there a little over a year later with some of my best college friends. We antiqued, waded in the water, and relaxed on the pier. That evening we worshipped at an Advent service at Our Lady of the Gulf, one the lovliest churches one will ever see. After dinner (at Trapani's, of course!) we drove back to Gulfport along the beach and admired the Christmas lights that adorned the beachfront homes in Pass Christian. Another perfect day.
I visited Bay St. Louis again in May of this year. I spent the night, and enjoyed the lovely weather next day lounging on a deserted beach. My freckles popped out and still haven't gone away. I then spent the rest of the morning in a gift shop that sold handmade pottery and lovely-smelling handmade soap (patchouli, my favorite). Every time I look at my freckled arms, I will remember that sun-splashed, sea tangy day.
I have thought a lot about those days in the last week, because the town I knew no longer exists. The 40-foot storm surge of monster hurricane Katrina swept my perfect town away. The bridge across the Bay of ST. Louis is gone, and so is the downtown. I am grieving for the loss of a friend.
I am grieving for lots of friends this week. My best friend, who is from Pascagoula, MS. grew up in an old house that made it through Hurricane Camille. That house is gone. Her parents are living in a tent. 80% of Pascagoula is destroyed. There is no power, no clean water, and the residents are running out of food and medicine. The REd Cross has opened one shelter. I want to ask, "Where is FEMA? Mississippi was devestated by this storm. Why does New Orleans get all the attention?" Don't get me wrong. I love New Orleans. It is (or was) a great town. I just want others to know that Mississippians are suffering too. For anyone who may read this: if you feel led to give, don't forget about Mississippi just because the national media has.
I will never forget Bay St. Louis. I don't know if I can ever go back there. The memories are too bittersweet. I want to remember it like it was.