Doodle-granny

It seems like we're always over two-thousand miles away when we need to be home. Just last night I wished we were home in Lanford to be with our family to remember my great Aunt Polly.
I hope that they know we are with them right now in spirit, and we love them all very much.

When my great Aunt Martha died, we all sat around the dining room table and told stories about MaMa, Martha, Polly, and the rest of the Patterson kids when they were young and things they did after they got married. We had the best time, laughing and sharing with each other...it didn't seem like a funeral. We were sharing happy memories, remembering everything that made Martha special to us. I think it hurts me the most to know I'm not at home to be with Margaret Ann, C.J., Ross and Kat to sit at the table and share stories.

After Sunday lunch we'd wait for the signal to cross the road (the signal being Ross waving to us from Polly's yard) and then begin an entire afternoon of tree-climbing, pomegranate tasting, doodle-granny hunting, creating weapons and artillery from the scrap wood bin in Henry's shop, watching the weather stick move different ways, eating ice cream from the deep freezer on Polly's back porch, and picking strawberries from the garden. I miss my Sundays at Polly's. She was the best storyteller, and our favorite was her handwritten copy of "Little Orphant Annie" by James Whitcomb Riley.

I hope our rig will make a turn for the East sooner than later, we need to see MaMa and walk across the road to Polly's one last time.