Death really isn't always sad I guess . . .

I'm sad for myself right now. Sad I won't be able to attend the funeral of my great-aunt Satira, who we all called Tat. Not only was she a very visual reminder of where I got my busty-ness from, but we have always shared a special bond. So that's why when my mom called today to tell me she had passed, I sort of hung up on her, though I knew it was expected. Last Saturday talking to my grandma I found out she was in the hospital - something my mother failed to mention to me when I spoke to her two times in the previous 24 hours. Just two days before she died I realized she had had cancer. She was in her 80s. Had lost a leg to "sugar" a few years before and yet was one of the sharpest people I knew up until her death. In the last few years I loved going to her house in these South Carolina section 8 houses which were basically 2-3 bedroom houses that were two connected around the block. OK houses. Tough residents. The whole time we were there kids would be in and out buying candy and sodas from her. She was no pushover but had a sweet heart and could see through the kids who tried to take advantage and would give to the ones who really just didn't have it. What I loved most was when Aunt Tat would start to tell stories of my grandaddy when he was a little boy. She would imitate how this big ole baby would be crying to her who practically raised the bunch that their sister Nancy, who really was the oldest, 'aint give em no food.' She would slide his greedy butt a 'hoecake' even though she knew he already had had three. She would tell me other stories of my family that made them real people to me and remind me they weren't born 60 years old and had lived full lives and some even died before I was thought of. I particularly loved this story she told me about how my Grandaddy snuck in the kitchen and was eating up all the sweet potatoes she had baked. Well he couldn't hide the evidence when he got sick and relieved himself throughout the yard. I'll never forget her saying how they looked like little sweet potato pies all over the yard. Hope this story doesn't come back to you when you are eating sweet potato pie this Thanksgiving:)
So Im not so sad for Aunt Tat that she passed away. Im sort of excited for her that she will meet up with so many she has talked to me about. My grandaddy died a few years back and I am sure they are laughing about those sweet potatoes. Im more sad for myself since I wont get to show her the Lye Soap she told me how to make which they used and I said I would make when I got to see her back in May. It was just me and her as I drove Blackberry Molasses to SC by myself to see my fam and we chatted like we always did. I sat in her wheel chair and got real close to her laying in the bed and we made each other smile like we always do. Im going to miss that ole girl.

-great-niece of a true Queen