8/10/07---Ruby Cook 4/28/23--8/4/07 R.I.P.

There's a small 2 lane road that leads from the interstate into my Aunt Ruby's hometown of Varnville, South Carolina.  You drive by homes set about a hundred yards off the highway, churches, farms...there's a railroad track that runs along the side of the road on the right hand side.  As you get closer to "downtown" Varnville (sort of a misnomer if ever there was one), there used to be a pool on the left hand side of the road.  That was the official landmark when I was a kid that you were almost there.  Yep, a pool.  Now, I don't want to say that Varnville is small town....but when I say a pool....I don't mean that it was someone's pool.  I mean---the town pool.  A community pool.  And during the summer, which is always when I would visit the Palmetto State, the pool would always be full of kids who were looking for a way to get out of the South Carolina heat.  I'm not sure if it was as hot then as it is now...but you get the picture. 

The pool hasn't been there in a long time.  Somewhere along the line, people stopped going...then it fell into disrepair...and eventually it just got torn down.  I drove by it the other day and noticed that they had built something new on the site.  A funeral home.
Its where they had the visitation for my beloved Aunt Ruby the other night.  I thought it was sort of ironic how the spot that always welcomed me to Varnville was now the spot that now was the place to say goodbye.  My aunt's struggle ended on 8/4/07.  She left behind a family saddened by her loss, a town that remembered her....and a small church that paid her the respect that she was due.

I was visiting Mom & Dad last weekend and had just gotten home from dinner when my Mom got the call that her only sister had died.  I stood next to my mother and waited for her to have the emotional reaction that I expected....but it didn't come.  I think she had prepared herself for it--if you ever really can.  My sister had taken her the week before up to Varnville and I was told that the two sisters got to spend the better part of an afternoon together--laughing, telling stories and generally speaking...enjoying themselves the way that sisters can and do.  I'm told that after my mother left, my Aunt's condition begin to slowly worsen until she finally couldn't wake up--and then didn't at all.
It was as if the visit by my mother was her last burst of strength.  A chance to say a final goodbye....and I know it was one that in retrospect that my mother is glad she was able to do.  I got back home on Sunday and had to make a quick decision on my plans, the various how's and when's of what I would be doing.  The funeral service itself was set for Wednesday morning, and it was decided that I would fly up to my sister's in Jacksonville on Tuesday night--where we would be joined by our brother, driving over from the panhandle--and then an early (and I mean EARLY) departure for South Carolina on Wednesday morning....a 3 hour drive....the funeral, the burial, lunch, visit with some relatives, 3 hour drive back, catch a plane back to Ft Lauderdale...and back to work the next day. 

After my arrival the night before, we got up at 5AM (after some assistance from the notoriously late sleeping niece Scarlett--so props to her) and the five of us--me, my sister and her husband Johnny & Scarlett, and my brother (acting as driver)---were on the road.  Chip observed every speed limit posted on the trip.  He didn't obey them, but he saw the signs, I promise.  We actually arrived a few minutes early (you're shocked, I can tell) and stopped by my Aunt's house.  We stepped in and sort of tip-toed our way around, exchanging greetings with relatives that hadn't been seen in years---probably since the last funeral, which unfortunately is the way these things seem to work.
We drove in the procession over to the church, which included one last drive past the house--a chance for my Aunt to "get one last look" at her home.  I thought that was a very nice touch.  When we arrived to the church, we walked in and I was surprised--although for the life of me I don't know why--that the church was absolutely packed.
All the friends and family of my aunt's had turned out to say goodbye...and it showed how much the small town of Varnville really thought about her.  The church's minister said some nice things about my Aunt--and I was really glad that they were his own stories, from his own personal memories--of how much he cared about her and how much a part of the church and the town my Aunt really was.  There were songs sung, poems read and more praise heaped upon Ruby Cook.

All of it deserved.

We went to the cemetery, where the minister showed himself to truly be a man of compassion, as he acknowledged just how hot it was and kept his final words brief.
We made our way back to the church ("back to the air conditioning!") where the ladies of the church had made a delicious meal in my Aunt's honor.  I looked at the meal they had prepared and thought that it may have been the greatest tribute of all--for it was at her home, with people sitting around the table in her kitchen....that my Aunt was best known.  I confess that I snuck back and had a 2nd dessert...and thought all the while that my doctor was whispering in my ear that I really didn't need to have extra helping of banana pudding....but hey, it was like the good Reverend said:

"Come and enjoy good food prepared by Christian women".  Man, if it was good enough for Dolly Parton in Steel Magnolia's, it was good enough for me.
(And for the record, I can pretty much assure you that what you just read will be the only reference to the movie Steel Magnolias that you will EVER read in thisblog.  Ahem)

Then it was back to my Aunt's house--or maybe I should say my cousin Mike's house, since he and his wife now live there.  We stayed for about an hour and a half.  It was so hot outside that I was glad that I had brought a chance of clothes and asked Mike if I could change into a pair of shorts and a t-shirt somewhere.  He directed me to the master bedroom, and I closed the door and began to change.  There was a knock on the door as I took my shirt off, and my cousin Hal walked in to change out of his good clothes also--followed by Mike, who decided that it was a good idea.  So there we are, three cousins in a room, we hadn't seen each other in maybe 20 years at best...and Hal asks me who my team is in football.  I tell him I've been a Vikings fan for over 35 years (gulp!) and Mike said that he was a Bronco's fan.  Hal follows the Carolina Panthers.
Now, I mention this because here we are...3 cousins who haven't seen each other in all those years...standing in our underwear....and 2 minutes into the conversation we start ripping into each others team.
"The Vikings?  They're terrible!"
"Bronco's?  What a bunch of losers!"
"Carolina?  Who have they ever beat?"

It was the one genuinely hilarious moment in a sad day.

And then we left...and took that 3 hour (well, actually more like 2 1/2) drive back to Jacksonville for my flight home.  I ended up getting to the airport with 2 hours to spare and had to walk around. 

I finally sat down, watching the people go by.  I was worn out.  The effects of the flight up there, the long drive up and back, the early wake up call , were all finally kicking in.

And I wouldn't have missed it...and I was glad I went....mainly....because she was worth it.  And I wanted her, and her family, to know it.

And I wondered if I would ever take that drive into Varnville again....past those houses set back from the road, the churches, the farms, the railroad tracks on the right hand side, and where the community pool used to be....but its not there anymore.
Its a funeral home now.

Later,
Jeff