Auntie Pammy Leaves Legacy Of Lennox Lancer Love

 

Life transitions can mean so many things. After all other guesses run out, the final life transition is the end. Auntie Pammy’s life ended, but she left a legacy of love that’s hard to ignore.

 

From the time the news went out I thought of the a meme that said, “Write about what hurts.”

 

It’s the quote along with a famous writer’s image I posted on Facebook three years ago. The face belonged to Ernest Hemingway in full beard. His eyes, if you’re sensitive enough to notice, showed pain. Ernie’s got some hurt going on and he wrote it out like a pro.

 

His eyes were the window to peak in and watch hurting big daddy papa.

 

Auntie Pammy was more about mischief. A twinkle of things no one knows, but a few. That was her legacy.

 

My limited interest background check on Hemingway showed evidence of pain. I call it limited interest because the work should stand on its own, aside from the person creating. Like Hemingway novels.

 

Early on Mr. Hemingway knew pain while driving an ambulance in World War One. That’s when he took a round to the testicle, a bayonet, a mortar rocket, an artillery shell. He was lucky to leave with any marbles in his ball sack after such abuse.

 

Keep his scrotum in mind when you read Old Man And The Sea? No, it stands on it’s own.

 

Like any work of art, making a life together with someone is an evolving work of art. Auntie Pammy knew art. So did Bobby. Probably better than any Hemingway marriage.

 

What is Hems saying about what hurts when his main character’s big catch is devoured by sharks bit by bit until there’s nothing left? The pain of hunger, the gnawing grind of an empty stomach?

 

The ‘Hurt’ meme came up when Facebook told me how much they love me, cherish my memories, but didn’t thank me for giving them the contact information they sold. Still, they lovingly asked if I’d like to repost the hurt stuff and it got me thinking about what really hurts.

 

I thought of one thing. You probably guessed: When was my most recent testicle attack. When is the last time I felt like I had taken a bullet in the balls, a knife to the nether region, or a missile to the man sack? I’m not Hemingway, but hurt is hurt. And I was looking.

 

In a quick motivational minute I found the pain I was looking for but it was complicated. The kingpin, the leader, of my wife’s high school friends passed away.

 

Auntie Pammy as my kids knew her.

 

About a minute after they found out about her memorial the friends all locked in plans for a long weekend together. The painful part for me was knowing how rare it is to get anyone to do anything, but these girls all mobilized so fluidly.

 

It’s not something I could do. No one I know could do it. They’d probably gather for a guy weekend memorial of someone in their life, just not anyone I know.

 

Different circles.

 

The ladies gathered to celebrate their fallen leader were all stand-up women strong enough to stand alone, but their giving nature allowed them to acknowledge how important they’ve been to each other. It was their chance to face the future without the center pole in this circus called life.

 

The most hurtful moment, and exquisite pain, came from a family member. Speaking in the kitchen of an isolated farmhouse at the end of a long one lane drive, the older brother of Auntie Pammy explained where they all came from.

 

Someone in the crowd mentioned the ‘Los Angeles people’ which is where they all went to high school. Just a quick heads up: LA has a lot of high schools in very different locations.

 

Auntie Pammy and the ladies attended a school isolated from greater LA, an unincorporated tract called Lennox.

 

From the outside LA is LA, Tinsel Town, Hollywood, Brentwood, Lifestyles Of The Rich And Famous. It’s as mixed up and awesome as any world capital.

 

Big Steve explained the difference between LA and Lennox. He could have talking about North Bend Oregon if North Bend had been located near LAX. Just a small town guy defending how things used to be? No, Steve laid out a way of life connected by family and friends who cared enough to leave their mark. In a big city and millions of people, Lennox was a hometown standing alone.

 

The Lennox Lancers ruled a Washington farmhouse kitchen. Auntie Pammy was in the house. 

 

She would have given Hemingway a good run for his money, then left him wondering what happened in his new world of hurt. The Lennox ladies shared the hurt of losing their girl.