You Know What I Mean

March 31 is Kelly Jo Marlene Good’s birthday. In fact, the whole month of March is my niece’s day. She died seven years ago but not before long changing how I look at March. It truly is a month of change and hope. These are topics we cover everyday as a community newspaper. For me, March and its messages have always been more personal. I hunger for Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups and Pepsi “Nepsi” even more than normal this month because they were Kelly Jo’s favorites. I think a lot about wrestling books and Power Rangers and music — Rock of course — and laughter and a family complete. This day is not as sad as it once was, because now on this day I live more within my respect for my lovely niece and feel strength and encouragement in the small spring-like things like kites and butterflies because she taught me the value of everyday miracles. I know she is happy and sharing her smiles with others that have a piece of my heart with them in heaven. Happy happy to you, Kelly Jo.

Judy D.J. Ellich

Your ideas and responses are welcome at judye@dailyamerican.com

As my husband and I swept toward the drain the couple of inches of water that seeped into our basement on Saturday, I thought of my parents. The last time I battled cold water in a basement was in 2005 — about this time of year. Only that time, the sopping waters destroyed most of my memorabilia of my parents tucked away into boxes in the path of the foot or better of water. I use to open those boxes from time to time when I was feeling lonely for them. I would pull out a wallet and there was my Dad, in his long johns, telling his goofy rabbit joke for the 50th time, literally, and laughing so loud that I could not help myself — I had to laugh, too. I would pull out a necklace and there was my mother, standing in my doorway with car keys jingling in her hand and my sister behind her with a big smile on her face. For the first time in years, my mother felt well enough that day to take us on a drive through the countryside — and boy was that ride. Then I realize something after the water receded by Sunday and nothing was really harmed, that sometimes the worst of times are the best of times, for they can bring memories that help you not feel so alone.

Judy D.J. Ellich

Your ideas and responses are welcome at judye@dailyamerican.com