|Williamson, Iowa Main Street|
|They would've looked a lot like this, only dirtier, I'm a guessin'|
|"Watch the hands, pal."|
I don't remember it of course, but my uncle's wife had a sister who lived just up the road in Williamson. And that sister had a little baby girl who was born just four months after I was. The two mothers would see one another from time to time and they'd all compare the babies. One was small and beautiful and perfect and they named her Lorri. The other one had a giant head that was three sizes too big for his body, and he weighed ninety pounds at birth, and as if all that wasn't bad enough, they named the poor little bastard Buzz.
|Lorri, if she were alive in the Depression era and wore dresses as a child instead of her signature bibs (bibs, by the way, that being children of the 1970's and having particularly cruel parents, were probably plaid AND corduroy).|
|She still gets me to do stuff for her with this look.|
|And if I don't do it, then I get this look.|
...And other times, she'd get mad and yell stuff at us, or chuck a rock our way, or throw a mud pie (when in season, of course).
|If it were up to Lorri, the mule would be INSIDE the house|
From that first time we walked by her house when we were all still very small, I've always turned my head to look at her again. Through the years, each and every time I saw her, she turned my head and took my breath away.
It must have looked a lot like these two, except I was seldom lucky enough to get this close. Until one day, a miracle happened and she simply stopped running from me.
Looking back, I have come to believe that some angel had been watching me come into this world. She knew that I'd be a handful, and that I'd need some taking care of and guidance and watching over (sort of a special needs soul, if you will). It was too much of a chore to take care of me from way up there and from so far away, so she followed me here instead.
Happy 40th Birthday Lorri!