Last Wednesday morning my husband's aunt called to say his grandfather, 94, died after suffering from Alzheimer's for about 9 years. Wisely, I bit my tongue as my husband quietly cried. I wanted to tell him that he shouldn't be sad. His grandfather was so ill, and he really lost him a long time ago. But, after 10 years of marriage and 34 years of living I realized that sometimes people, like our husbands, just need to cry without the boundaries we as wives can sometimes place on them.
So, we (when I say we, I mean I) washed laundry all day, packed bags, loaded the van, strapped in the kids and headed to Mississippi from Kentucky. We go back several times a year, but I'm always amazed how differently I feel when in my home state. I feel wiser somehow. I'm not sure what it is, but I think it has something to do with being familiar with the way people are expected to interact.
For instance, when shopping in Kentucky, people generally smile and say "excuse me," but no real conservations ever really take place in the department stores on in the check-out line -- especially if you have a toddler in the buggy (that's a shopping cart for all you Yankees). Well, I went shopping with Mama (one of the things I miss the most about living closer to family) and low and behold what would have taken 30 minutes in Kentucky took about 2 hours in Mississippi. Everybody stopped to make a fuss over my daughter (18 months) and how precious she was. She caught on, too. She would look at people as they walked by and say, "Hey!" with a grin 3 feet wide. She even said, "Hey, y'all!" a few times (at my coaxing, of course). I even found myself striking up conservations with complete strangers and feeling completely comfortable. I felt like Scarlett, "I've always taken comfort in the kindness of strangers."
However, the most unbelievable thing that happened was that my accent came rolling back. My "i's" sounded like "a's" and my sentences became so much more colorful. It felt like ice tea on a hot summer's day -- so refreshing to let go of the diction I've allowed to strip my language of color and sass.
I have a good friend that says I have an "inner Julia Sugarbaker" lurking somewhere deep inside. I believe I do. I just watched several episodes of "Designing Women" on TV Land, and Julia was a hell of a woman. Excuse my language, a Southern Belle shouldn't use such vulgarity. Anyway, after visiting Mississippi for the weekend, I feel I can come back to Kentucky and add a little color to my world here. Now, if I could just find someone to practice my "inner Julia" on...
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4 comments:
Ok, sometimes I notice that accent of yours sneaking out and I think that you should bust it out more often! It is delightful.
As for your "inner Julia", I can give the names of some people to practice on if you'd like.
My accent always comes back the minute I cross the Mason-Dixon line or when I'm talking on the horn with family. :o)
Okay just let that inner Julia flow. I know you can do it and I like Kellie have a few names of people who I would like to have you practice it on. All I can say that deep with in your soul is Julia Sugarbaker and I hope I am never on the receiving end when it finally explodes out. Much love "Juli"
love your blog...I fancy myself a bit of a belle but I was the 3rd( and last) gal out of 0 boys...so my mom reluctantly turned me over to my father several times a year for fishing (in the georgia swamp) and braves baseball games. He confessed to me in his last month (when I was 9 months preggers) that "you were my boy...did you know that?" yes daddy, I said, thank you.
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