Funerals, shopping and osterias

Yesterday, we showered, primped and drove to Eatonton in the middle of triple digit heat to attend a funeral for the father of Lisa Hopkins. When we got to Eatonton, we found a little cafe/book store on the square across from the courthouse. Like a return to the forty's, the cafe seemed like the only place that was air-conditioned and the people were cordial. It was a return to a place and time that seems like it should have disappeared a long time ago. Like Clarksville and Hopkinsville lost in my childhood memories.

As we sat and sipped on sweet tea, we listened to the patrons and the help discuss the intimacies of their lives: weddings, children, hopes and losses. The airconditioned air brought us comfort, but not like the comfort of sharing a brief bit with the folks around us. Our waitress was giddy with anticipation of an impending wedding in September. There were patrons meeting one another and sharing news about friends and children and relatives we didn't know but felt included in the tapestry.

We had a surprisingly excellent luncheon, the food, the atmosphere and people were delightful. Afterward, we got back in our car and drove around the corner and parked in the shade of the trees along the residential streets. We walked down to the First Baptist church and entered. The funeral service was personal and comforting in its informality and richness in the details of the life of someone who was a friend, husband, father and grandfather to the people around us. It was clear that Mr. Corley's place in the community and at the table would cause a loss to all.Amongst the feeling of loss were stories of humor, friendship and love. One could only hope that the ceremony that awaits us all will be as filled with as much true sentiment, friendship and comfort.

After the ceremony, we drove to a Dairy Queen and changed clothes in the restrooms there. Buying a couple of cool treats in subtle thanks for the changing rooms, we drove on up US 441 to Madison and Interstate Twenty to Atlanta. In Atlanta, we drove to IKEA, a Swedish home decorating store, with stores all over the world. The place was full of foreign voices and dialects, confusing in its plenty, full of the world coming to Georgia. Cindy and Kate filled their bags with decorating materials, knick-knacks and gim-gaws. We were buying items to ensure Kate was ready to return to college in South Carolina. Every year is the same, buying stuff for Kate's room.

I don't know if the times are different or if it is a matter of gender difference or both. When I went off to college in 1975, I could just about carry everything I needed in the trunk of my car. Year to year, the items and the amount of material necessary for a year away from home didn't change. Even the items themselves rarely changed in four years. But with Kate, every year is a new opportunity to redecorate and add items of clothing and decorating style. Girls are different, definitely different.

Anyway, after the shopping trip, we drove over to Osteria Figo Pasta, and used the last of my cash for pasta, red wine and conversation. The atmosphere there is loud but fun and informal. Again, we were caught up in the swirl of conversation, good, inexpensive Italian food and loud birthday wishes in Italian. It was a simple time but a good time to share with each other. As we ended the day in a Barnes & Noble in Fayetteville, it was nice to share the love and interests and friendship we have for each other in such differing environments. It was an unusual, small combination of all of our lives drawn together in an afternoon and evening. Only the temperature and the location changes.