By Dolores Wilson, March 21, 2019 — Mr. and Mrs. Jones were well respected in our community. They were known for involvement in all community activities. The couple had no children of their own, however, they had parental skills. We children gravitated to them. They not only mentored us and gave us exposure to different art forms, but they also were generally kind, safe people.
Mrs. Jones was a friend and a mentor to my mother. We children were not allowed to listen to grown-up people talking. In passing through the house, I overheard Mrs. Jones giving my mom advice. I liked her being my mom’s friend and mentor.
When Mr. Jones died, we all wanted to be there for her. My family attended the funeral, and of course the grave site. At the grave site, her brother was carrying on, “Take me, take me,” and he almost fell in the grave. HIs words changed to something quite different, words that are too fancy for me to say.
I looked up at everyone that had their head down. I was tickled by his change of heart, large tears were rolling down my cheeks.
Later at her house was the wake. Everyone was there eating and drinking and were giving their condolences. She took the broom and started sweeping after the inner circle was there.
I could tell she had something on her mind because she had that amused look. Suddenly she leaned on the broom mocking her brother, “Take me, take me! Until your stubborn soul almost fell in the grave!”
That was the cue to laugh. Myself, Mrs. Jones and anyone else that was there at the gravesite was on the floor.