6:04 p.m.	Elegy	2003-11-28
Reaped	Eds. note: here's what I wrote (& read) at the memorial service for g-ma. That is all. The thing I always say when describing gramma to strangers, �she shot two bucks with one bullet at the ripe ol' age of 69.� And they raise their eyebrows in respect & surprise, and I just say, �that�s the type of woman she is.� But however the story goes, it�s a difficult task to honor a woman as strong & independent as Sue Bai11ie: what she represented to us all, and especially in 2 to 3 minutes. But here goes: Sometime before grampa passed, we sat around the old kitchen table after dinner,listening to sam & sue reminisce with friends about days long gone over a piece of smoked mullet, how they met at one of those USO dances during WW2: the two of them, so debonair and young and full of hope. �Oh yes, I was a child bride�� she�d say. He swept her off her feet & to the other side of the country. I imagine her, a seedling California transplant, taking root in the FL orange groves, raising generations through freeze, drought & plenty. I remember the tea parties she�d make for us on the tiny china tea set, making beaded bracelets & colorforms & melty plastic ornaments at christmas time. Teaching us to embroider & make our own barbie clothes. Watching her iron the blue and red hair-ribbons that always matched her slip-ons. Her spaghetti, always the pasta & sauce mixed & coated in the same pan & covered w/ a healthy dose of yellow cheese. How she�d eat raw hamburger out of the bowl: �like steak tartar� she�d say to our faces of disgust. Well, wendy liked it. Her mug of tea at the end of every work day, the bird & bunny Pb&j sandwiches she made wendy for dinner every day for a year. The sugar-coated grapenuts she made wendy for dinner every day the year after that. Her love of nature, always taking in the itinerant squirrel (Peter) or kitten, nourishing things & making them grow with a mere touch of her hand. I remember her fire, her constant motion: quilting, reupholstering chairs, hunting, fishing, cooking: the woman bricked her own patio from the remnants of the old homestead sugar cane boiler for chris�sakes---her passion could teach the world a thing or two. When you�re asked the question: �who�s the most influential person in your life?� Well, that�s a tough question to answer. But I can�t deny the influence she had, and still has, on who I am today. & I wonder who here today couldn�t say the same thing. �She was an institution�, as my dad observed�but however you name her: mother, aunt, sister-in-law, firecracker, business woman, matriarch, Mrs. J S Baillie, or just plain ol� Sue, she�s something I�d call �the salt of the earth��a type of creature that only comes around once in a blue moon, and dang it, be blessed that they did. Today we say farewell. We give our love and honor your memory with the mere existence of who you made us. After all, the fruit falls not far from the tree.	Sown
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