Come July, Mom has been gone for 14 years. Each time we visit Jonesboro, we visit the cemetery where she and dad, as well as Coachie and Miss Dot rest. We give each a little bourbon, and we have a drink with them. We’ve done this so often and for so long, I’m surprised that any grass at all grows on the graves. Thinking about it, we probably ought to be using Uber for the trip. It just seems like it might make for a safer ride back out.

Sunday is Mother’s Day. This alone has me reflecting on Mom and smiling as I remember what a wonderful sense of humor she had. No one loved a joke more than Mom. I remember when we (Mom, Me, Landi, Jen, Jordan and Catfish) were all in New Orleans for Jordan’s graduation from Tulane. We had arrived a day or two early so we had plenty of time to wander the Quarter and have a good time. It was late May or early June. We had stepped into a bar that only had one couple sitting at the bar enjoying a drink. This was the year that everyone was hollering about the ‘Swine Flu’ down on the Mexican pig farms. People were scared that it was going to get into the US.

We all sat down at the bar, including Catfish who was about 13 at the time. Remember, we are in New Orleans. We ordered drinks, Catfish got a soda. I was sitting beside Mom who was nearest the other couple. I sneezed. When I sneeze, I don’t sneeze once. I sneeze about a dozen time in rapid succession. I looked at Mom and, kidding around, said loudly (because Mom was hard of hearing) “I’ve been sneezing like that ever since I got back from Jose’s pig farm in Juarez.”

On hearing this, the other couple sat bolt upright. Horrified, they looked at me as if I were Typhoid Mary. The gentleman slapped a $20 on the bar and the couple, passing as far from me as possible, walked briskly out of the bar.

Mom busted a gut. She thought that was the funniest thing ever. We all laughed long and hard. Well, almost all of us. The bartender didn’t laugh. He scowled a little because we had just run off his only other customers.

There is a story in our family about when Mom and Dad were with Coachie and Miss Dot for a night out on the town in Memphis. Coachie and Miss Dot were Mom and Dad’s best friends. Coachie was a football coach at ASU who looked like a Hollywood star, and Miss Dot was his wife. They were an amazing couple.

No one enjoyed dressing up more than Mom and Dad. Mom loved dressing in diamonds and furs, but no one could look more debonair and impressive than Coachie and Miss Dot. Coachie entered a room with an luminescent presence that preceded him. When he came in, everyone turned and looked. From his confidence and his poise, it was clear to everyone that someone important had just entered the room. When applied to Coachie, the word ‘charisma’ is spelled with all CAPITAL letters in bold italics. Miss Dot, on Coachie’s arm, dazzled everyone as she entered at his side. When they arrived anywhere, it was as if Captain Rhett Butler and Miss Scarlett O’hare had just walked in the room. Everyone would fall silent and turn to look at the beautiful, stately couple.

Mom, Dad, Coachie and Miss Dot showed up at the Rivermont in Memphis for dinner one night. They were dressed to kill, but didn’t have a reservation. The Rivermont used to be a very fine hotel with a dining room that required reservations. It was located on the bluff overlooking the Mississippi River in Memphis. Entry to the dining room was controlled by a somewhat self-important maitre’d who ceremoniously informed them that there were no tables available. Not missing a beat, Mom approached the maitre’d and said “Do you know who this man is?”, pointing to Coachie who stood there looking like a movie star. “This”, she continued, “is Senator Jackson from the state of Arkansas. You can’t find the Senator a table?”

An excellent table was procured for them post hast and a legend was born.

Mom loved a joke and a good laugh.

In 2010, we lost Mom after a brief struggle with a nasty cancer.

After services at Blessed Sacrament, we, mom’s kids and their spouses, climbed back into my brother-in-law’s Escallade for the ride to the cemetery for the grave side services. In our family, it is customary to gather for bloodymarys before a funeral. We all had the remnants of our bloodymarys in the Escallade to sip on while we absorbed what was happening.

The air inside the Escallade was thick with the sadness that simply overwhelmed all of us. Mom was gone. It was quiet. Tony, my brother-in-law, sensing the smothering weight of the moment, must have somehow channeled Mom.

Help was on the way.

“So”, Tony began, “A guy died and went to hell…”

My sister, Sweet Pea, gave Tony a look that could melt steel.

“And he’s a little concerned. It is after all, Hell.”

Sweet Pea silently stared at Tony in shocked disbelief. I looked at Landi in utter disbelief. I couldn’t believe it. Tony was telling a joke. Matt and Susan had shocked looks on their faces. Tony was telling a joke as we drove to the cemetery to bury Mom.

“But then he sees a guy he knows and says, ‘hey, what’s it like down here?”, Tony continued with a light cadence as he continued with the joke.

“Honestly, it’s not that bad, the guy replied. “

I could feel myself getting sucked into the joke. My mind was climbing out from under the fog of shock and greif ever so slightly, and I’m listening just a little to the story as Tony continues. I glanced around the car. Landi had fallen under his spell, too. Tony had captured everyone in his telling of the joke. Matt and Susan are listening. Even Sweet Pea is now listening to the joke.

“Not that bad? It’s Hell! WTF?” the newly dead guy retorted.

“Do you like country music?”, the guy asked.

“Love it”, the newly dead guy replied.

“It’s Country Music Monday. All the greats are here. We have Jam sessions all day with Hank and Waylon.” the guy said. “And do you like sports?”

“Absolutely!”

Tony carefully followed the hearse through the gates of Jonesboro Memorial Park.

“It’s Sports Tuesday. Jim Brown is here. Ty Cobb is here. Babe Ruth is here. We play games with them on Tuesday. It’s great!”, the guy paused. Finally, he continued “And let me just say, Hooker Wednesday”

“You gotta be kidding me” came the astonished reply from the newly dead guy.

“Yep. All day long. Are you gay?”, he asked.

“No, why?”

We came to a stop behind the hearse at the grave site.

“Oh, well…..you..um…you’re probably not gonna like Thursday.”

The stiffling silence inside the Escallade was shattered. The entire car erupted in hard, earnest and heartfelt laughter. The ice had been broken. The dark and gloomy cloud that had been depressing our meager attempts to celebrate Mom’s wonderful life had been banished by a rainbow of laughter elicited by a joke that Mom would have absolutely loved. She would not have been able to tell it without laughing all the way through it. The explosion of laughter inside the Escallade occurred just as we arrived at Mom’s grave site. I can only imagine what people thought when we all emerged from the Escallade smiling and laughing. We were now ready to celebrate the life of a wonderful mother the way she would have wanted it celebrated. We spent the next few days truly and deeply enjoying the memories and sharing the love we all had for Mom.

It’s been 14 years since that day. We all miss Mom. We wish she were here to spoil her great-grandchildren and a just few more dogs. The thing i miss the most is her laughter. She and dad both loved a good laugh.

Happy Heavenly Mother’s Day Mom!

Bite the bullet. Try the books. You’ll like them.

Written by William Garner

2 Comments

Dana Greene Finan

Thanks for a much longed for morning laugh! Loved your Mom & Dad + SweetPea, loved Coach & Dot & love Ouida the most! Tolerated you young neighborhood backyard guys n brothers …lol. Sitting here laughing so hard & tears rolling down my face. Jackie’s laugh was real & unforgettably contagious. Our lil area had some spectacular mothers (& a few who could only be tolerated a few moments) who watched out for everyone’s kiddos. Bless all their hearts, missing my mom the most. Happy Mothers Day, to my Mother, Jackie, Dot, SweetPea & Ouida.

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Ouida Hardin

Dana, I m just now seeing your response to Bill’s story. Isn’t he an awesome author and friend? I’ve heard the story about my dad, Senator Jackson and Jackie’s ingenious way of obtaining seating immediately at the Rivermont. No one tells it better than Bill! I hope your Mother’s Day was as special as you are to me!

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