Raining in Georgia

Gary Allan had a song a year or so ago with all the Songs about Rain and today the part about Georgia is true. It is a soft, soaking rain, just what we needed to enjoy and keep Jonesy from going out and visiting the neighborhood.

Rose is pouting today. She misses the children that visit her and she thinks they should come everyday. It would be nice to see them, but they have other things to do.

It is such a beautiful spring it has not been this nice or green since Mom passed away in 1970. That year the green seemed to be saying goodby to a fine lady. She was one of the best people I every knew. Always there to lend a hand. A would be doctor, if she had not been so poor in money. She used a lot of herbal medicine before it became fashoniable. If you had a family member that was having a baby, they called her. If someone passed away, she was one of the first to be called to help the family.

It seems most of my childhood was spent looking for her to come home. She worked at Bell Bomber plant during the war years and helped build the b29 plane. Right wing she was proud of the effort for the turblent times that she gave her part.

She was sick during the last four years of her life and when her time came she made a point to say goodbye to everything and everyone she could. The night she passed, she asked to go to the lake and watch the sunset and then she had a massive cerbal hemorage about 1030pm. Miss you Mom.

I was expecting Eric at the time and when he was born early, She would have been there but with the power of love for the grandchild she would not see, she came back and that is my ghost story. I woke up and saw her at the foot of the bed and Eric was asleep and not being scared, just at peace in seeing her look so much like Her early self, beautiful and shining. I asked what she wanted and she told me I came to see my grandchild. She has never appeared again but I have always felt she made it back for the special child.