Paging Dr. Wesson

Emily

My niece, Emily, scored a touchdown today; she ran for a 2-point conversion, and she kicked an extra point! Wow! What, you didn’t realize I have a niece who plays football? Actually, I don’t, but since I’m the mother of a former football player, the football analogy is handy and complimentary.

Emmy is smarter than I could ever hope to be. She knows more about math, biology, chemistry (and all that other stuff) than ever I could have learned. I do believe it’s a right-brain/left-brain thing, and quite obviously, Em has the side that I don’t possess.

Emily has worked so diligently for the past few years; she has made many sacrifices, keeping her eye on the prize. Her reward: a score of 32 on the Medical College Admission Test (MCAT). If, like me, you’re asking whether that’s good – yes, it is very good. Like Harvard Med good.

Her parents feel like they’ve just won the Super Bowl; they’ve been coaching her from the sidelines since she was a little girl. Her dad has run in plays, and her mom has patched her up when needed. They have been her biggest cheerleaders on the sidelines. The rest of us have cheered often and loudly from the stands. Occasionally, we’ve been known to sing a fight song, or two. 

Dr. Wesson! Paging Dr. Wesson! Oh, I like the sound of that! Congratulations, sweet girl – we’ll be in the stands cheering you on as you enter medical school. And we just might learn a new fight song, or two!

The Dogs We Love

My family often asks me why I enjoy so much the dogs in my life. They wonder about how I’m able to pet-sit for four big Labs, and how I “tolerate” Marley’s little idiosyncrasies. Try as I might, I’m never able to explain just how much I love these dogs. But I do. And that’s all that matters, really.

If your dog owns your heart, well then, you know what I’m talking about. And you may agree with me that the feelings are really inexplicable. There is something intuitive between you and the dogs you love. Sometimes they know what you’re feeling even before you recognize it. Joy, pain, sadness – they’re by your side to comfort or rejoice, whichever, makes no nevermind to them.

Lark, Bella and Jake

Dogs are the best listeners. All of the five Labs I love, Marley, Bella, Coco, Lark and Jake, and the Golden, Lucy, listen when I talk to them. They let me prattle on about nothing and, conversely, each looks me in the eye when I’m addressing him or her on a particular subject. How many of you can say the same of your children? I cannot. And I can tell by the look in their eyes that sometimes they think I’ve lost my mind. As I've said, they're very intuitive. When I ask a question,a tilt of the head is usually the physical response, as if they’re saying, “Tell me more”.  If they tire of hearing my voice, I’ll oftentimes hear that familiar deep sigh, and they’ll relax into the floor (or whatever piece of furniture is handy) and close their eyes. They don’t mind if I just keep talking.

Oh, and they’re pretty comical; Coco, for instance, is a kleptomaniac. She’ll very politely steal a shoe, or a nail file, or whatever, and then she’ll look at you with the sweetest look, always careful to remain just out of your reach (and always careful never to be photographed with the evidence).

Coco

Marley is the most polite dog I’ve ever known. I give the credit to my son who did all of the training during his first year, and who continues to work with him. Marley survived a year of frat house living, so I think that makes his polite nature quite impressive.

Marley

What Lab doesn’t love a tennis ball – to the point of obsession? Lark is unique in that she will actually share her ball, which is very unusual for a Lab.

Lark

They are fun and funny, and they each own a piece of my heart. And there is one universal truth on which I think we can all agree: some of the purest unconditional love we’ll ever know is given to us by the dogs we love. 

Lucy and Marley

Embracing Grief

Uncle George

 How do you make peace with something that causes you pain? Death is one of those things for me, and perhaps for you, as well. I’ve been working on this issue for several years but have yet to find a comfort zone. I believe Southerners know how to do grief and funerals better than anyone; it’s more of a celebratory thing with lots of food and drink. And company. I suppose that’s right, because the dearly departed has thus achieved the ultimate goal of life in the Everlasting Arms.

My Uncle George passed on to his reward on Wednesday evening, rest his soul. He was a loving, cantankerous man with a twinkle in his eye. He and my Aunt Marguritte always lived on a farm with land and cattle and, at times, horses. They built their own homes with the help of their three sons; a very resourceful family they were. I will always have fond memories of visiting the farm, talking to the cows (yeah, I did that), riding dirt bikes (when Mama wasn’t looking), and just hanging out with my cousins. His was a full life, and one to be celebrated, for sure.

I’m trying to swallow the lump in my throat and summon the nerve to embrace my grief and attend his funeral service. I’m quite sure that George will be smiling down on this service alongside his beloved son, Larry, who preceded him in death at much too young an age. They’ll be happy to see our family gathered in love to celebrate a life well lived.