Yuns and Y'alls Aplenty

Fried okra, baking powder biscuits, milk gravy, and fresh ground pork sausage seasoned with sage. Running and playing in open fields, crawdaddy fishing in a nearby creek, walks along dusty gravel roads, time spent with sisters, brothers, cousins. And there were grandmas and grandpas, aunts and uncles—and plenty of "yuns" and "y'alls" to go around. Childhood memories. We lived in the north but our style was distinctly southern.

My Aunt Bonnie, who passed away last week, was an important part of these memories. She and my Uncle Ted, and their family, lived within miles of us. We celebrated birthdays, holidays and other occasions together, including putting up corn for winter. (I remember well how the women folk formed an assembly line to prepare the corn for the freezer.)

A short and slightly plump lady with an unmistakeable southern drawl, Aunt Bonnie was a presence throughout my childhood. She was a devoted, sincere lady who loved her family dearly.

She and my Uncle Ted, who died unexpectedly earlier this year, were a team. When she needed something done, he was the willing assistant—usually with a smile on his face and a twinkle in his eye. I will have fond memories of them always.