By Ralph E. Gordon / Special to The Star
I knew my mother and sister would have a feast prepared, as I pulled into the driveway of my mother’s home just ahead of a cloud of dust created by what was left of my 1966 Plymouth. But I was too exited to eat. It was the day I been had looking forward to since I first met her at Delta State. The day I brought Pat home to meet the family was here.
Mama wasn’t the only person there that day. My sister Nancy from Oklahoma, and my brother Bernard from Gulfport, had come to Mama’s to meet the lovely and gracious Pat. It was love at first sight when my family saw her. And who wouldn’t love Pat? She’s just that type of Southern belle.
Beaming with pride, I introduced her to Mama first, and then to the rest of the clan. My sister really took a shine to Pat right off. She proclaimed, “She’s a keeper,” but little did Nancy know what a keeper Pat really was.
She keeps everything, old pillows, broken dishes, phone bills, you name it and she keeps it. There is no telling how many copies of Southern Living she has stashed away around the house. She hides them everywhere. I even found an old paper napkin she had saved from a friend’s wedding some twenty years ago. But to be fair that’s probably a woman thing, and not just reserved for keepers like Pat.
My brother Bernard died a few months after Pat and I married in seventy-four. Pat and Bernard never really got to know each other as well as I would have liked. Bernard was a keeper too. They would have been great friends. But “Pat The Keeper” could have never topped my brother’s habit of keeping junk. He had an old shoebox full of string that he kept. That’s not all the unusual I suppose, considering that you might need a piece of string around the house from time to time. But my brother being the keeper that he was, took it one step further. The box was labeled “pieces of string too short to throw away.” Figure that one out!
Keeping Pat was the smartest thing I ever did. She keeps the home fires burning, she keeps me going to church and all the other things I should be doing. The most important thing she ever kept was her faith in me. I’m not sure why and I’ll let it go at that.
This Thanksgiving as I reflect on the all the blessing God has given me, it is Pat The Keeper for which I am most thankful.
