sweet baby james

Mari's best friend - since her early days at First Baptist Church Sunday School - had a baby. You blink and time escapes. Makes me wonder how in the world this young thing who partnered with my 'baby' to sneak out in the middle of the night for some teenage antics could actually be old enough to be a mama. Wonder if she will share her secrets with the boys?

He joins his big brother Jackson, solidifying the male dominance in the household. However, knowing Jessica, I'm fairly certain she'll come out on top.

Jeremiah, Jessica and Sweet Baby James.

Born on August 28, 2012, James kicked his way into the world in just under eight hours and was still kicking when I came to visit.

Welcome to this big, wonderful, Southern world, Sweet Baby James.

birthday bridge

Cooper in October, 2010 Photo by Ben Brian

Besse Cooper turns 116 on Sunday, August 26, 2012, and I'm honored that she has shared a tiny bit of her extraordinary life with me. She is the oldest living person on record. Amazing, don't you think.

Now, a bridge in Between is sharing her spotlight. Yes, in Georgia, we have a town called Between simply because it found itself in between Monroe and Loganville. Ah, I do love my South. Another town where its geography and setting influenced its name, much like my mountain oasis located in Possum Hollow, Georgia. Opossums, agh!

Nevertheless, as of Friday, August 24, 2012, it is the Besse Brown Cooper Bridge. It re-opens after months of repair to fanfare and frivolity. Honestly, I would be shocked if frivolity will be present in this out-of-the-way location, but a girl can hope. The piece of real estate now holds the honor of bearing the name of the oldest person in the world. A heavy burden for a whisper called Between.

Besse's children: (l to r) Angie, Nancy, and Sydney. Luther Cooper (not pictured) will
be there for the birthday party on Sunday!

It took only four minutes, thirty five seconds, for the county commissioner to commission the bridge's namesake. Three of her four children accepted the honor in her name. Grandson Paul Cooper was at Besse's side (at her residence)  hoping to provide the crown an up-to-the moment comment. However, no call came, but her previous statement said it all: "I'm glad I gave them a reason to name it."

I'm the first one over!

"aeh"

Mama, me and the 57 Chevy.

You see my mama's hand on my leg?

That touch meant more than just, "hey, I think I'll put my hand here."

"Slow down."
"You'll see I'm right."
"If it's worth doing, it's worth doing right."
"Stop pulling the dog's ears."
"I told you not to go down to Ricky's house."
"Be quiet."
"Go get that hickory."

And most of the time, a guttural "aeh" accompanied the words she chose. That short, quick grumble delivered how she really felt. And then she would grab my leg, or specifically, the section just above my knee-cap, she'd squeeze in rhythm with the "aeh". I knew it was over, and I had lost the fight.

Even at 96 and her movements had dwindled, she still managed a "squeeze" and an "aeh". Her body wasn't as strong as it once was, but heavens, her hands could still grip. Whichever leg was closest, she'd grab, squeeze and grunt. She squeezed me. She squeezed her grand-daughter and her body-builder grandsons. We crumbled every time.

I miss that "aeh". There are days when life scurries on, and I hear that grunt escape from me.  I can't help but snicker because I realize that there's something important about to happen. It's a signal of sorts. How can I be so much like mama? I swore I would never be.

Actually, it wasn't me.  It was mama, looking down from heaven, sneaking up on me and having the last say.

writing is so hard

It's deadline week. I'm reading. I'm editing. I'm questioning. I'm rewriting.

It's hard work and exhaustive. For those of you who have hated writing since 6th grade, today is the day I totally agree with you.

Back to writing.

it's time

My thought for this morning: I'm hungry.

And, when did this become the year of 'get healthy' - in whatever way possible. Thus far, the exhaustive workouts, the Achilles Tendon repair and now, the colonoscopy, have pushed me to the limits, and I swear, I'm tired.

Another thought: I'm nervous. There's always a twinge of doubt as you look into the face that that well-meaning nurse who showers you with "It's going to be okay, sweetie" and then you inhale and pray she's right. So far, so good. Then your eyes flutter as her voice breaks your subconscious, and it's over. I've got this surgery (anesthesia) thing down-pat. At least the time-lapse segment. One, you're on the table; two, you're in the recovery. I don't care to know what happens in between one and two.

Back to I'm hungry. This is an excellent way to jump start losing weight - this colonscopy creature. Not that I recommend this to anyone (unless you're doing your fifth decade duty), but you always have to look on the bright side. You have to find the silver lining, and so this is my silver lining.

So, as Craig Ferguson said before me: "It's my birthday present to myself." (I'm early, but that's okay.) Hopefully, good news and this will be in the can (yeah, sort of a pun) for the next 10 years. You must do what you must do to see your children tomorrow, wake up next to your husband for the next million years, and completely fill that bucket list you spent so long in creating. 

But as my luck would have it, there will be another something, something that will rear its ugly head, and say, "Hey, Judy, It's time."And like a good girl, I'll answer the call.

Post-mortem: The Day After
Fear is worse than the actual experience. Old people will tell you that. Don't fret. You're not the first to do this and you won't be the last. It was okay. The worse part? Drinking that chalky-metal clear crap the day before (chasing with apple juice was the life-saver) and the IV. For some of you, bad taste is no biggie, and for most of the world, an IV is just an arm-poke away. I'm one of the lucky ones that has a difficult time with both issues. But in the end, the procedure was painless because propofol is the best thing since sliced bread. A few issues found but nothing that being medically proactive can't fix.

So do it. Listen to your doctor and when she says, "Colonscopy?" You say, "When?"