Breakfast this morning is a frozen waffle with some syrup, a piece or two of cheese and a few pieces of canteloupe. I’m sitting in the porch swing, hot coffee in my cup holder, counting my blessings and giving thanks for another day on this planet. I’m looking at a perfectly beautiful Sunday morning on my slice of porch heaven. Looking up I see a cerulean blue sky filled with bleached white fluffy clouds. Warm sun shine is beaming down almost blinding in its brightness. Mother Nature and Father Sky painted a wondrous sky today putting a smile on all creation. Everything is so green after last night’s rain. A brisk wind is making the wind chime tintinnabulations sound like church organ pipes celebrating Sunday services in small town America.

Four crayon yellow cloudless sulfur butterflies are frolicking around my flowers. Such a wondrous play on color to see them light on the bright red geraniums blooms and the deep purple of the million bells. I know they were thinking I was going to chase them from bloom to bloom but I just enjoyed watching them. Two of them lit on my pink rose bush and the contrast of yellow and pink was just so pretty. Probably would have jumped up if I had my cell phone and disturbed them with photo taking but my phone has gone over the rainbow bridge and I’m waiting on UPS to bring my new one tomorrow.

Today, September 18, is my daughter Rosalyn Louise’s 39th birthday. She was killed in a car wreck on March 17, 2002. She was 17 years old. I had picked her up from school that weekend. She was a freshman at Snead State Community College in Boaz and was looking forward to Spring Break with her friends. She was traveling back to a friends’ house in Boaz, driving my car, when she ran off the road on a horse shoe curve. She jerked the wheel too strongly causing the car to flip three times. On the third flip the car struck a pasture gate fence and the fence post came through the windshield and struck her in the chest. Instant death from blunt force trauma.

The nightmare began that Sunday morning when I got the call from her friend’s mother. Their daughter had come upon the wreck, recognizing my car. Despite the state troopers advice to not call, her mother called to tell us of Rosie’s death. Her friend’s mother told me Rosie had a wreck. I immediately asked her about her daughter, hoping she was okay, thinking she had been in the car with Rosie. Then I asked to speak to Rosie and she said, “Rosie’s at the funeral home.” And I said in ignorance, “Why is she there?” Still not understanding what she was trying to say. She said, “The wreck killed her.” The breath left my body and I asked her to hold on for a moment. I went upstairs to wake Thomas and wrote on a piece of paper, “Rosie had a wreck last night and it killed her. I need you to come to the phone.” I had no breath to speak. Chief was at church so I sent Thomas to wait for his daddy outside of church and bring him home. I woke Stew and told him.

Twenty-one years have passed since I got that call on Sunday morning and her death is still the first thing I think about when I wake and the last thing I think about at night. I lost her daddy to Covid in 2021 and I like to think he was reaching for her hand when I sat by his bed as he lay dying. His death is mingled with the thoughts of Rosie each night and each morning.

Rosie’s tomb stone reads “Budded on earth to bloom in heaven.” She’ll always be a beautiful 17 year old young woman. She was such a happy ebullient child. Always singing and whistling. She had her teenage angst as most do but she had found her best friend and her place in life at Snead.

I’m so thankful the last words I heard from her the last time I saw her as she drove out the driveway were, “Bye, Mama, I love you!” And the last words she heard from me were, “Bye, Tootie. We love you!”

Life is so so short and we never know what tomorrow’s sun rise will bring. If you have children, treat them as the gifts they are from God. Children don’t ask to be born. We bring them into this world and they should be loved and cherished. Let them be children and embrace their fleeting childhood. Fill it with memories and photographs of happy times so when you’re gone they’ll find comfort in the memories and cherished photographs.

Life will eventually take away things we love. It’s inevitable. Don’t take the small things for granted. Every moment is special so don’t waste them. Don’t be frustrated by the things you can’t change. Focus on the present, soak up the memories. Embrace kindness and thoughtfulness. Learn to love the life you live.

“Life is a series of natural and spontaneous changes. Don’t resist them—that only creates sorrow. Let reality be reality. Let things flow naturally forward in whatever way they like.” —Lao Tzu