MARY LYNN
My cousin died Friday afternoon. I was so sad.
Her children came to my funeral home Saturday morning to make arrangements. It was so comforting to be with them. They were polite and sweet.
My cousin was, and remains, very special to me. I'm sure I will always remember and love her dearly. We will bury her Wednesday. It should be a lovely service.
When I was a little girl, my family moved to Baton Rouge, LA. I'm sure we moved there because my father had a job there. My grandmother and grandfather lived there too. I believe they must have been there before us because we lived in their trailer house with them, and I don't remember having to wait for it to get set up in the trailer park.
That was a fun place to live. When it would rain, the streets in the park would flood, and we would run and ride our bikes, splashing as we went. There were also tons of children to play with, boys and girls. We would have water battles with balloons and guns, and we would chase each other all over the place. I enjoyed it there.
The park also had a swimming pool. I don't know if you've ever lived in the deep southern region of Louisiana, but in the summer, it gets sweltering and humid. A swimming pool was a miraculous way to beat the summer heat. Although my mother could not swim, she would take us to the pool every day and let us play for hours. I enjoyed jumping in and splashing around, but I was restricted to the pool's shallow end as I could not swim either.
As the summer progressed, I became braver and more comfortable in the water and eventually learned how to tread water. As I worked on my water skills, I finally taught myself how to swim. At that point, I was free to be in the deep end.
My mother was so proud of me. She was so excited that her child could swim. She was relieved that she would no longer have to worry about me getting into too deep of water. That must have been a great moment because now she only had two children left who could not swim.
My mother was always worried when we would swim because she knew that if anything happened to us in the water, she did not have the skills to help us. She preached that into our minds because she wanted to make sure we stayed on the shallow side of the rope. If ever we would get too close to the rope dividing the pool into shallow and deep ends, my mother would stand up and yell at us to get away from it. We would immediately move back to the shallow side and hide in shame for being yelled at in public when that would happen.
The day that I learned how to swim, my mother called up every relative in town. She was so proud and wanted everyone to come by and see how proficient I was. My relatives were all very supportive, and one by one, they came to the trailer park to witness my new accomplishment. As the day progressed, I began to tire.
Near the end of the day, my cousin (the one who passed on Friday) came by to encourage my confidence and watch me swim across the pool's deep end. My cousin, Mary Lynn, was beautiful, bold, and confident in all that she did. She had been shopping and at the beauty shop all day because she had a date that evening.
She was gorgeous with lovely white skin and jet black hair. Her hair was high on her head in a classic 1960's beehive, and her outfit was colorful with beautiful high heels. As a little girl, I remember noticing that her purse even matched her shoes. She was magnificently beautiful.
Mary Lynn was so excited to see me swim across the pool, so I jumped right in to get her accolades of approval. I immediately knew that I was in trouble because my arms and legs felt like lead. I was exhausted from swimming across the deep end for so many relatives that I hadn't the strength to do it one more time.
I began sinking deeper and deeper toward the bottom of the pool, and I was terrified. I saw my mother jump up and run to the pool's edge. She was screaming in a panic, and tears spilled out of her eyes. She was helpless to rescue me, and I couldn't save myself. I felt so sorry for my mother, and I saw my long hair flowing above my head, beginning to block my view of my mother.
Suddenly, as my cousin realized that I was in grave danger of drowning, she dove into the pool and swooped me out. I was so confused because my mother was hysterical, and my cousin's beautiful hair was now sideways on her head, sopping wet. She, too, was overcome with tears, and her clothes and high heels were ruined. She helped me regain my breath and cough out all of the water I had swallowed, and then she and my mother hugged me and rocked me like a wee baby.
After that experience, it was quite some time before my mother would ever let me into the deep end of the pool for more than five minutes at a time. I can't blame her; she was overly cautious, and rightfully so. Even then, I wondered why my mom didn't jump in and learn how to swim herself.
My cousin and I always shared something special. I loved her so much, and she would always tell me that she would jump into a swamp full of gators to rescue me if I needed her to. She wasn't kidding either. She was so brave and stubborn that gators wouldn't have had a chance against her will and strength. She would fight demons if necessary.
Mary Lynn was always brave. She was always so sweet to me. As an adolescent and adult, I saw her set more than just a few people straight when they began to get sideways on issues or behavior. I was always grateful that I was one of the people she loved.
As Mary Lynn was in the nursing home, I would stop by and see her. I would always take her a strawberry milkshake from the Dairy Queen, and we would visit for a time. I loved my cousin. At a very young age, she taught me that nothing matters over life and love. She was brave and took on battles that would leave others quaking in their boots. I always knew that I could rely on Mary Lynn because she loved family more than life itself and when danger surfaced, she would dive right in without hesitation to rescue you
God speed, dear cousin; I shall miss you.
