Auntie & Uncle Ray [ dot . dot . dot . ]

#Cheers, p.s.

You were absolutely batshit crazy, mom, but you did the best you could, with what you had, and you taught me how to live-----not giving a hoot what others thought, of my own mind and with complete, passionate, reckless abandon.  For you, it was mostly reckless, but that's why we loved (and tolerated) ya!

You had killer style, great taste in men, music and wine---all of which I'm proud to say I carry on with a formidable fierceness.  So thanks for that, and here's to ya!  *raises my glass*

I remember Auntie and Uncle Ray.  You'd be out or working and I'd be spending the night at their house, and when late night came, and Uncle Ray walked in the door, I'd watch Auntie's whole demeanor change.  She's rush to make sure all the kids were sleeping, quickly splash her face with water, put on the bright lipstick she loved, smooth down her dress, fluff up her hair and strap on a pair of heels.  Uncle Ray, a real "man's man" would leave car parts, guns or fishing poles in the shed and come in through the back door.  He'd wash the grease from beneath his fingernails, change his clothes, wash his face and splash on aftershave.

They'd end up in the front room, right where I was sleeping (or pretending to sleep on the couch...)

Sipping something strong from small glasses and laughing softly, intertwined, as they danced to the old timers ~ Merle Haggard and Johnny Cash and Loretta Lynn and Conway Twitty.

I could smell Auntie's perfume and Uncle Ray would ask me softly, just once: "Ya sleepin', JoJo?"  Of course I pretended to be asleep; I wouldn't miss what was coming next, for the world.

The more they sipped from those glasses, the happier and friskier they got.  And as they danced and dipped and pulled closer and chuckled more softly, Uncle Ray would nuzzle Auntie's neck and the tone of her laugh would change...  I realized, every time, she'd been waiting all day for her man to come home to her, just for this...  And he'd been waiting all day to come home to his woman. 

Then I'd hear them quietly steal away upstairs, muffled voices and laughter... then the distinct sounds of loving...  As the last strains of Johnny Cash played from the spinning vinyl downstairs.  Where I lay on the couch, covers tucked way up under my chin, eyes closed tight, I remember with great clarity, what I thought:  Someday, I will have that.

So cheers to pretty love and soul mate vibes and the kind of memories that make our lives vibrant.  

And on that note, sing to me Julian, show me the very definition of pretty ~

Goodnight, pretty bloggy.  Adore and deeply love you ~ ♥