Big Don Visits Texas

Big Don posts seem to be my biggest hits--so why not talk about his week long trip to Texas--which was in May.


Considering my dad can barely drive down our .25 mile driveway, he did not drive here. Instead, he was a passenger in my Uncle (my mom's brother) schweet Honda mini-van--along with my Aunt Weezer (she is just like Shirley McClaine's character in Steel Magnolias), her sister Carol and husband Jack. The reason for their trip was to visit Carol and Jack's daughter and her family, who lives in Sherman, TX which is 59 miles from Commerce. Since they were coming so close to where I lived they asked Big Don if he wanted to tag along--which reminds me of a great story about when I moved to Illinois (will post that at a later date... but, I digress)

Big Don decided to leave Twinkie with Crazy Aunt so he could make the big trip down--$20 bucks says that dog has dropped 3-6 pounds after cutting out canned processed meat products that my dad feeds her. The crew rolled into Sherman about 7 pm on a Saturday night. I drove to Sherman to pick him up and bring him to my apartment in Commerce. 

He went to bed pretty late considering he had been awake since almost 3 a.m. I, of course, gave him my bed to sleep in and I took the couch. I wake up on Sunday morning to my dad coming about of the bathroom. It is at least 6 a.m. and I barely have my eyes open when he says "you need to buy better toilet paper.. the dense kind that ya fingers don't go through.. you can afford that! I don't know what kind you use but it's John Wayne toliet paper.. the kind that don't take shit off of anyone!"...      ahhh, my dad.

 For the first two days I had to keep reminding me that I in fact live in Texas... "are you sure this is Texas.. I swear Kari, this place looks just like Alabama. If you had cornfields it'd look that land up in Illinois... Well, I never thought I'd be in Commerce, Al-la-bama... I mean, Texas. There is a lot of land. I guess you could plant you a big garden down here... Alabama has a lot of flat land.".. dad, we are in Texas--not Alabama... "well it all looks the same after Tennessee. Arkansas looks like Alabama too. Illinois looks like Alabama. Kentucky looks like Alabama but with more trailer parks and KFC's.. You know, we did not pass a single KFC in Arkansas--but so many McDonald's. We stopped at one and they put 4 shreds of lettuce on my Big Mac that were no bigger than rat turd--the McDonald's in Kingsport, well now, they cover the damn thing with so much lettuce you don't even taste the meat--but not in Arkansas.. But now, I don't mind a little KFC every now and then--is there a KFC here in Alabama... Still can't believe I made it all the way down here to Commerce, Al-la-bama.. I mean, Texas"

Monday and Tuesday were spent discussing again the fact were not in Alabama and also the hay fields next to my apartment. I live on the "outskirts" of town. There are two huge hay fields by my apartment that were mowed some time during the previous week... it rained really hard, so the farmers had to wait for the hay to dry out.. I wake up on Monday morning and open my eyes. My dad is looking out the balcony window that is right behind the couch I'm sleeping on.. "do you think they are ever going to come bail this hay... it has got to be ready for them to bail it...".. dad, the sun isn't even up yet.. "well, I tell ya I don't know if that hay is going to be any good... and there is so much flat land down here in Alabama, I mean Texas, that they can get a ton of hay just out of one acre.. how many round bails do you think they are going to get out of this field? Still there is nothing like those cornfields up in Illinois... you remember that?"... I lived there for 2 years dad, I know what the cornfields looked like... can I get another hour of sleep before I have to go to work?


Wednesday was spent determining what patio furniture I wanted to purchase at Home Depot (Big Don's birthday present for me). We spent at least two hours in Home Depot sitting in every patio chair they offered. Unfortunately, the two I wanted would not if in my Lexus. My aunt and uncle came down that day and I gave them the three minute tour of Commerce. Thursday was spent determining if I should ask someone to borrow their truck, order it online, or have my Uncle pick them up in the minivan.  Friday was spent putting together the chairs my uncle so graciously picked up for us. Saturday was spent back at Home Depot determining the ultimate color and patter combo for the seat cushions and matching pillows.


In a addition to all the fun at Home Depot and such--Big Don, who can barely operate a cordless phone--much less any other form of technology, decided to purchase a disposable camera so he could take pictures to take back to show Crazy Aunt. Needless to say, he took pictures of everything--from the hay fields, to the building I work at, to the toilet in my bathroom. During his rush to complete the roll of film in his fancy camera, he went on an adventure outside to the pool and playground area. Needless to say, a nosey neighbor freaked out and called building management. "Hi Kari, this is Shala at Bradford Place... ummm, we have a man here that says he is your dad and he's staying with you.. and well, some parents were concerned because he was outside with a camera taking pictures while their kids were playing in the pool and on the playground--you know, worried he might be a creep or you know worse, and well, I just wanted to ask you about it"... Yep, that's my dad. He doesn't have a digital camera and clearly doesn't care to be a weirdo out taking pictures for random shit.


The family rolled out of town early Sunday morning and I missed them instantly. I am really looking forward to spending July 20-30 at home in Slant. I am sure it will be just as great as Big Don's visit to Commerce, Alabama--I mean, Texas.


By the way, as of last night, Crazy Aunt told me she really enjoyed seeing where I live from the pictures but Big Don couldn't tell her what all the random buildings were, that she saw some pics of what looked like a blurry playground, and didn't know they also stopped in a place called Commerce, Alabama. Ridiculous

The Sad Stuff

I never talk about the sad stuff in my blog. I, after all, have a reputation to protect. I can't be talking about anything that isn't funny--but some days, you just need to vent to everyone and no one all at the same time--and isn't this the perfect outlet for that?

To start, I grew up on a small farm. It has now been in my family well over 100 years. My great grandfather cleared several hundred acres of woods by hand with my great uncle in the late 1800s. They settled there--near a spring and on the Clinch River--and my family has lived there ever since. My grandparents had a store there during the Great Depression. My dad and aunt were both born there. My family was living there when the Methodist Church was built and helped get that started. According to my dad and local legends, this area is called Slant because of the sharp angles of the Appalachian Mountains that our house faces. My great grandparent's house still stands between my Aunt Shirley and my parents house. We still drink water from the spring just like they did. There are 2 barns on the property--one in which my dad remembers my great grandfather building in less than 2 weeks. It is beautiful and so peaceful.

A few years ago, my dad's cousin, who is now somewhere near 95, came to visit "the homestead" as she calls it. Like pretty much everyone of that generation on my dad's side of the family, she was born on our family farm in the early 1910s. Her mom died when she was a young girl and her dad moved to Kingsport--away from my great grandparents--and he remarried. The lady he remarried was horrible to her and her brother. She told me of a night when she was around 14 when she got her brother, crawled out the window, and ran away. She had enough money to buy a train ticket from Kingsport to Slant the next morning. She said the whole night when she didn't have any where to go she kept thinking "if I can just make it home to Slant, then I know everything will be okay" and told me that Slant will always be home--no matter where you go.

Two years ago, I was in my first year of living and working in St. Louis--my dad was preparing to have surgery on an aneurysm--a surgery my Uncle Dwight had died from 6 months earlier. I flew home to be with the family during Dad's surgery--which was schedule for April 2. At this point, my mom was sick with pneumonia, was on medication, and had started dropping weight. My dad survived the surgery and it was successful. I flew back to St. Louis... during the next 2 weeks my mom went to the doctor to figure out why the medications were not working--needless to say it was cancer and the diagnosis was that it wasn't looking like anything could be done. At the time I was in LA at a conference for work. The day I flew back to St. Louis from LA, I packed my things and came home. The entire 8 hour drive from St. Louis to Slant--I just kept thinking of the words from the story--if I can just make it home to Slant, everything will be okay.

I pulled in the driveway after midnight. My mom was setting on couch waiting up for me--like I was 16 and late for curfew. She had lost so much weight and had an oxygen mask on. Three weeks had made such a difference--a difference I was not prepared to face. When I walked in the door, tears started down her face... "I told the doctor if I could just get my baby home to Slant, everything would be okay..."

A week later, my mom died. She is now buried on the hill from our house--on the land my great grandfather cleared by hand and at our family church that overlooks the Clinch River and beautiful Appalachian mountains that Slant is named for...

These last few weeks have made me questioned where I am and where I want to be. The longing to go home has been in my heart--not my mind. I always felt that I needed to go explore--travel to big cities--do great things--but none of that matters to me anymore. I thought I was bigger than where I am from--that I was "too good for my raising" as people from home would say. But today, the thought of driving down 65, turning at the red barn mailbox, passing by C.E.'s old house and driving over the little hill to my parents house in Slant is where not only my heart belongs but where my soul is and will always be. My love for the place where my great grandparents settled--where my grandparents lived--where my dad was born--where I grew up--is who I am--and that is so much more important than where I am now and what I do to pay the bills.

When I imagine heaven, I see Slant on a warm spring day when the grass is green and when you can hear nothing but the river. I like to imagine that is what my mom gets to experience everyday and until my time comes to an end, I want to spend it where my heart and soul are happy and I know that isn't here. So however long it may be from today, I do know when I finally make it back to Slant, everything will be okay... it always is.