Diary of a Party Girl Turned Wife and Mama: The Silver Lining in My Dark Cloud

Today we put my mother to rest. She is buried near one of her very favorite locations -- the beach. Our lives will never be the same now that this beautiful person has passed, but I am content knowing that she finally has a piece of beachfront property.

While preparing for the funeral service, my family and I had the longest, most awesome trip down memory lane. I found some incredible pictures of my parents when they were dating! They were high school sweethearts married nearly 44 years so you can only imagine all the memories captured in those photos. I went through hundreds of pictures, and noticed a common theme. In every picture of my parents, they looked extremely happy.

It was obvious how much they loved one another, and had a great time together. I found pictures of them dancing, playing at the beach, hanging out with friends, celebrating Mardi Gras...just basically living life to the fullest. I also found some of my mom's poetry. I knew she was the artistic type. That women could make a precious keepsake out of two cottonballs and a toothpick. However, I was further amazed at her ability to write. There was even a poem about me! I always knew she loved me (she was never scared to say it), but I didn't realize just how much and how much she admired me. As a mom of my own two precious gifts from God, though, I totally understand those feelings.

Then, of course, we had to reminisce about all the great times we had together. If you think I'm hoot, you should just meet some of my relatives! The stories were great. I laughed until I cried. We talked about how our Maw-Maw stalked us when we visited. The woman lived in a house with 4 rooms that totaled roughly 700 square feet, but she'd follow us around the house scared to death that we might touch something. God forbid we opened her fridge!

We talked about my mama and her sassiness. I have such fond memories of my Aunt N and her sitting at N's kitchen table drinking coffee and smoking cigarettes. They talked about everybody and everybody's business. No one was safe from those critique sessions. At the funeral, I found myself praying that they weren't in heaven discussing how much weight I'd gained.

Yep, memory lane is probably the most therapeutic place. In those hours and days spent with my cousins, aunts, and uncles, I rarely cried, frowned, or felt sorry for myself. The only sounds heard when we were together were the sounds of laughter. We laughed at all the crazy things we'd done, and all the crazy people we loved.

We laughed at the big hairdos and the clothes, how skinny or fat we were, how 18 kids played "Mother May I" on a 3 foot x 3 foot walk way... We remembered in great detail every event at which each photo was taken. We laughed about Aunt S sleeping on a bean so she'd have a dimple. We laughed about how we'd shove 15 kids into a pinto to chase fire trucks. We laughed at how my daddy could pull some story right out of his rear and make you believe it. It was wonderful and touching, and my heart still melts when I think about it.

As quirky as my family is, it is the only one I've got. We may not call as much as we should or visit as often as we'd like, but our bond remains as strong as it was when I entered this world. I certainly hope we all stay true to our word and try not to drift apart. I hope we will start to have planned, organized family reunions instead of impromptu gatherings at funerals. I don't want my kids to miss out on memory lane. Nor do I want them to ever forget any of the looney, beautiful people that made me who I am.

These are just a few of my favorite pictures found...