“How come you aren’t wild and crazy?” my son wanted to know. “How come you aren’t like Aunt Mary?”

Dustin was just old enough to have figured out family ties and kin-connections. Mary isn’t his aunt though.

She’s my Aunt Mary.

“I WAS crazy,” I answered, “but then I got married and we had – you.”

That was probably the wrong answer, I admit. But what parent can say their life was unchanged, post-child?

There was the unicycle I rode from Chadick Park to Allen’s IGA, where I pedaled up and down the aisles. My sister called me out for singing in public. My friend Mike will recall Craig and the billboard incident, which may be beyond the statute of limitations but I had best be certain before I say more.

Dustin’s mother will remember my suggestion for pizza one afternoon, and the fact that we proceeded to drive from McAlester to Stillwater for a table at Hideaways.

To me, that was a little wild. Maybe a little crazy.

But Aunt Mary?

She never gave it up, not for kids, not for nothing. She had it. The kids, the life, the work, the church, the chores, the friends, the restaurant, the station, and..

And the love. She has that still.

Wednesday was her birthday but her doctor’s diagnosis made for a poor gift. She’ll be released from the hospital. They’ll make her comfortable at home. My cousin Bill said she was joking around with kids and staff.

And there – right there – is where I can step up for my son, and that question from so many years ago. I want to be able to face it and forge on. I would like to keep my sense of wild and crazy in the face of dire tidings.

I would love to be – as my young son said at the time – like Aunt Mary.

Those of you with influence would favor our family greatly with special thoughts and prayers. I fear my own standing isn’t enough.

My cousin Bill and I have struggled to get together for some time even though the miles between us aren’t that great a distance. Life seems to interfere. Our previous reunions have been the predictable and unfortunate occasions. This is one I would just as soon put off.

If crazy to believe and wild to consider, the one person who might prove them wrong is my Aunt Mary.

I’m hoping someone will help me keep her in our thoughts.

And thanks for your indulgence on the bookstore notes today. Between the covers and amidst the pages, sometimes there are real stories being told.

Here’s to the health of you and yours…