Memories of my cousin give rise to sunshine

By Edward A. Forbes

The Bulletin

March 22 would have been the heavenly birthday of my favorite cousin, Judy Talley McMillan Hartman.

 I was sitting in my kitchen, looking out at the demolition that precedes a remodeling and repair job, feeling overwhelmed, and then I thought of Judy and all the schemes that my older brother conned her into participating.

I thought of the permanent garage sale my brother talked her into managing at her home, of course. I know that despite the aggravation of all the “stuff”, it proved much-needed income for her and her daughter.

I thought of the visits to the art gallery openings, which in addition to beautiful artwork, had food and drink, an evening out with someone else picking up the tab for dinner.

I thought of her hosting a party in her backyard for my brother’s friends and her friends, not necessarily the same people. Her backyard had an alley in the back. This was in the late 1960s or early 1970s in Houston. The utility lines ran from the alley to her home above a beautiful fig tree.

Enterprising rats that must have lived with the Wallenda family came scurrying across the utility lines until they were over the fig tree, and then they made a leap to the tree and those figs. That side of the backyard was clear of people, leaving the rats their figs.

I thought of discovering her method for making Sprite a drink of distinction by taking a glass full of ice, squeezing a lemon over the ice, and then pouring in Sprite.

I remember my brother convincing her that they could raise rabbits economically for food, and then their discovery that for a rabbit to become edible, it must be sacrificed, dressed, and butchered, and neither one could do the sacrificial ceremony. I don’t know if my brother thought the rabbits would just undress and die on demand? They finally found that Judy’s brother-in-law could save them by performing this service for a portion of the proceeds.

You do understand that the rabbit’s domicile was in Judy’s backyard with a supposed splitting of the cleaning under cages and feeding said rabbits. I know that those duties leaned heavily in Judy’s direction.

I thought of Thanksgivings in the 1980s that we spent with Judy and Robin and their prodigy. I especially remember her carefully and frequently basting the turkey in her oven while I made gravy on her stove top.

She made fancy cranberry sauce with whole cranberries and all the other stuff in it. I tried telling her that I only liked cranberry sauce that resembled the shape of the can it came from, as God intended.

I remember visiting with her on my drives into Houston for acupuncture treatments as God slowly dimmed the light on her life. I will always have those memories of the visits that meant so much to me, and I hope to her. I remember, not with tears but with so many smiles, these things and other adventures and friends I shared with Judy and my brother, both of whom are now just lovely memories.

I hope you, too, have those types of memories with friends or family that can bring a ray of sunshine into your cloudy day.

(Email Forbes at eforbes1946 @gmail.com or mail  comments to The Bulletin, P.O. Box 2426, Angleton TX. 77516.)