I love this quote by Dixie Carter talking about crazy folks — “This is the South and we’re proud of our crazy people. We don’t hide them up in the attic, we bring them right down to the living room to show them off. No one in the South ever asks if you have crazy people in your family they just ask what side they’re on.” The older I get the more I’m beginning to think I may be the crazy relative. I think Southern folks love eccentrics. They might talk about them but they enjoy their occasional visits. Gives the family something to talk about and brings on laughter. I’m not talking of disrespectful laughter but laughter in remembering their stories and actions.

Charles Dickens said, “There is nothing in the world as irresistibly contagious as laughter and good humor.” We had an eccentric uncle on Chief’s side of the family. An old bachelor, loved to throw in a cuss word or two when he was telling a story. His visits thrilled my oldest son. He’d see Uncle Earl coming down our dirt road and he’d run around singing, “Uncle Earl’s coming, Uncle Earl’s coming.” We’d all sit outside and visit, listening to him grumble and complain, but we loved him. My children never heard a cuss word come out of their father’s mouth but they loved it when Uncle Earl threw one out in his stories.

Baby brother told me once, “I think you need a keeper. Some little lady to follow you around and carry your purse!” I laughed, too, because I know that’s better than the Shady Oaks option. His wife invited me to lunch and I asked baby brother why he was at home during lunch time. He laughs and says, “It’s Saturday!” And I laugh, too! That’s the story of my life! I never know what day it is since I retired. Read where humor is a sign of intelligence so guess I’ll quit worrying.

Another glorious day compliments of Mother Nature and God. Pale blue sky, the color of Felton Brothers’ baby clothes, overcast with thin white clouds. The sun was streaming down through the clouds, kissing the flower blooms looking upward toward the heavens. Lots of birds singing and frolicking around the bird feeders. While I was sitting in the swing the squeak of the swing chain and the songs of the birds composed a pleasant yard symphony. As the day’s gloaming began, the sun wore the colors of a beautiful ripe peach, rolling down the horizon as if it fell from an antique fruit basket. As the sun dropped behind the horizon, Mother Nature picked up her watercolor brushes and painted the clouds in pale, pale shades of lilac and mauve. Another day ends gloriously as night walks up the street carrying the moon and twinkling stars on his back.

Scripture states, “Teach us to number our days, that we may gain a heart of wisdom,” Psalm 90:12. We need to trust God with our future and our lives. We have to understand the brevity of life and make wise choices to live our lives in ways that honor God. Our time on earth is in God’s hands. We need to make the most of every day we’re blessed to have, living each day with kindness and compassion. We’ll have perfect days in heaven.

While I was porching today, I was pondering on what the perfect day would be if I could create one for myself. Of course the thoughts of the perfect day always include Chief and Rosie. I imagined my family sitting in big porch swings on the shore at Hilton Head, South Carolina, beautiful set breakfast trays with bagels and wild cherry jelly, delicious fruit, perfect cups of coffee that would stay hot enough for all of us to enjoy sipping while we watched the shore birds frolic. I can see the trays now — small bud vases of yellow and pink roses, delicate bird patterned fine china, handsomely engraved sterling silverware, white linen napkins embroidered with colorful shore birds. Then I imagined a big family dinner with my daddy and mama, me and my three brothers, and all our children and grandchildren gathered around a huge dining room table full of happy conversations and laughter.

Then it hit me. I was living a perfect day. Cup of hot coffee on the little red table by the swing, yard freshly cut, birds flitting and singing, vegetables growing in my garden pots, all my family well and happy. Sometimes we wish for things that are already in front of us but we’re so busy with the “wish I hads” we can’t grasp our own perfect reality.

Honestly, I think my perfect day involves God’s gift of just waking up. Then as added blessings — a sunset or sunrise, speaking with loved ones, listening to music, a cup of hot coffee, songbirds in the yard, a fresh pack of chewing gum, laughter, and nothing scheduled that requires a bra or a dentist. Smile!

“Not every day is perfect. It was never meant to be. Every day is to be lived. To be an experience. The good days, the bad days, the best days, the hardest days; and all the days in between.” — Lisa Buscomb