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Can you see this picture? I’m sitting in a law office next to my sister, who is a tiny little Native American woman, part Scot-Irish of some approaching age. She is holding a pen and writing a check for 15,000.00. To say I could drop my teeth is an understatement
but I remain quiet as the lawyer turns and asks me? “What is your reason for being here?”
“Hmmmmm, I’m thinking, what is the reason?
“She’s wants to shop at Wal-mart after I’m finished here.” My sister quickly answers the man.
Cooly she hands the check to the equally ageing; but nevertheless, handsome attorney.
“Am I going to have any trouble with this?” The man is as taken aback as I am, and taps the check gingerly on the piles of paper there on his desk.
“Not if you wait for one day for me to transfer funds from my savings,” she calmly responds.
Little did I know that was only the beginning of my shock. The next was when I walked into the house she bought.
“Oh No! Oh no!” My mind is unbelieving as I tried to take in the total scene in front of me. Out one of the windows I could see a “roll-around,” totally full of trash. The size of the container seemed to be at least equal to that of a small freight train.
“Oh, well, yes that is why I didn’t want you to see this place until I got all that out.” My sister obviously saw my shocked state while looking at the terrible condition of the house and the thing full of trash.
The days hurried by with her meeting one challenge after another which included:
taking up old rugs, removing wallpaper, putting up new sheet rock, putting down new floors, tile, blowing Kilz paint over all the walls, cleaning out cabinets, replacing hot water heater, taking off garage doors that were hanging loose, and I can’t remember what else.
My help in my less than youthful strength had to be only to cook for her helpers and that was a pleasure to see them wolf down the old fashioned dishes of chicken and noodles, etc.
Today I sit here with a new respect for this little Indian woman, part Scot-Irish, who is a descendant of the fictional Jones character, Scarlet O’Hara. She’s the one Margaret Mitchell created , but yet found as she went into the old plantations around the Jones Plantation. We laugh at the statement Scarlet made while holding a bit of the earth of Tara in her hand.
And now my sister’s very lovely modern home, restored, is graced with a tall fireplace in the very large living room. The new carpet is where her great grandchild has a place to roll upon and play. A sparking new kitchen with beautiful stainless steel refrigerator and matching stove promises a new hope for family meals. The short bar separates that kitchen from a very large dining area. Four bedrooms, with one having its own bathroom and another bathroom, centrally located. is a place where her growing family can come to visit and enjoy the space.
Everything is all paid having come out of the sale of her other house. To say I’m the proud sister of this woman, part Scot-Irish, Native American, truly is the understatement
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