On a bus somewhere between Nashville, TN & Knoxville, TN: Sitting in the back lounge of the bus, somehow by myself with the rest of the band scattered throughout the coach, I finally have a moment to take a deep breath and reflect on the last few days. It's been a whirlwind of buses and planes and cars and hotels -- a week stint in Canada, two days work and two days play in the great Northwest, and finally a day at home to catch up with the boy, hoping he hasn't forgotten me yet.
In the midst of the madness, I took a personal trip to Dallas, TX to say my final farewell to my Great Aunt Wonnie. Not only was she great technically (the sister to my Grandpa Yeaman /my Mom's Aunt), but she was just
great in general. Though, the word itself doesn't give her enough justice. She was a mix of charm, royalty and texas sass. Her full name, Veronica Azella Franklin, and her southern drawl led you to believe she just HAD to have been in the movies at some point in her life. Even the way she took long drags off thin cigarettes made me believe she could have been
Lauren Bacall's understudy.
But the thing I remember most about Aunt Wonnie was her sense of style. Lord, could that woman accessorize. From photos from the past and as much as I could draw from my memory, Mrs. Franklin was never to be seen in public without hair done, makeup on and some sort of fashion accessory to accompany her pre-planned outfit. Sometimes it was jewelry, other times it was a hat, but most days, it was a scarf. I overheard one of her daughter's speaking of her style. "Mother always said you should add a splash of color." She paused and smiled at her mother's advice, "just as long as it matches." At least I now know where I get that inclination from.
Post-rosary dinner, the family sat around the table, sharing funny stories and memories of our favorite Aunt. How funny she was, how generous she was, how loving she was. When a family history question arose (where did we do that one thing?), without thinking, someone's voice answered, then trailed off, "just ask Aunt Wonnie...." We tried to think of specific stories or funny anecdotes, but with such an abundant life of 96 years, where do you even begin?
Eventually the time came to lay her earthly remains in the ground. Through the tears, we knew she was in a better place -- dancing with her beloved, Uncle Roger, reuniting with her brothers Paul and John and sisters Margaret and Madonna, and for me, maybe telling Grandma Reba how I wish I had a chance to know her more.
On the casket, a lovely arrangement of roses -- red, of course, for a splash of color.
