Charles Mark Noble, Jr.

Mom called me right after work February 2 to say that Papaw had passed out and was being treated at the hospital. Joel and I headed to Bible Study, we put him on the prayer list, we checked in with Mom later that night, found her a flight down there and got to bed with him on our mind. Before sunrise, while Mom was waiting to get on the plane, her brother called with the news that Papaw hadn’t made it through the night. As soon as the phone rang in the dark I knew it was bad news, and when Mom was crying when I answered, I knew it was the worst news. It took me back five years to when Mom called me from the same airport to tell me that Grammy had died. Time stands still, and sadness sets in, but reality doesn’t. It’s completely unfair that my mother had to be waiting for a plane a thousand miles away to get that kind of news, especially when she has spent so many months in Louisiana taking care of them. Joel and Dad and I headed down first thing the next morning, and were greeted by the ever-present Davidson family & Mom. We were also greeted with the news that the stomach flu had hit Charlieville and that Uncle Charlie, Erin, and Papaw’s caretaker Deborah were out of commission. Since we were the healthy new crew, we tried to get things taken care of, including eating the food brought over by such caring family and friends and even far neighbors that I’d never met. It’s too bad we didn’t think to photograph the edible love spread on those kitchen counters while we were there. Sometimes words don’t amount to much, but food and plastic utensils that cut the amount of dishwashing do. The next morning, Mom got so sick she had to miss the visitation…and that night I succumbed, followed by Dad and Joel. Mom recovered in time for the funeral the next day, but we looked through the kitchen windows at the little country church and all the cars. The Davidsons rang and ran, leaving a pack of ginger ale and saltines at the door. Just when we thought we were on the path to recovery, Mom knocked on the door while I was in the shower saying, “Another one bites the dust.” My Aunt had gotten the bug, and we found out that one of the deputies that responded to the 911 call was also sick. The doctors think Papaw had it too, and that it precipitated a heart attack. The absolute worst part of everyone being sick is that we couldn’t visit with everyone afterwards and share stories and tears and hugs. Once Dad was on the mend, he headed back to take care of Mama Connie (who is now 98!). Joel had to spend his birthday taking me to the doctor in Louisiana, where I was diagnosed with a sinus infection and bronchitis. Mom somehow in the chaos made time to bake him an apricot nectar cake, which we enjoyed all week long. He headed back on Wednesday, but I was still too sick to fly. Unfortunately, this meant I was also too sick to be of any use to Mom and Uncle Charlie in sorting through stuff at the house. I was barely any comfort to anyone and felt completely useless since she was having to make me tea. I did get to visit with Aunt Libby, who’s really my fake aunt, since she’s Mom’s little sorority sister, but she’s my Aunt nonetheless. It was good for Mom to have her there, too. Then it snowed four inches on Friday. FOUR INCHES IN LOUISIANA.

Mom's Snow Woman she made while I watched through the window.

I thought it was weird enough that it misted snow for a few minutes in January. Uncle Charlie is convinced it’s me that is bringing it, since I’ve seen snow five times there in 25 years. The following video is best enjoyed if you picture Mom trying to make the best of the weather in overalls three times too big, and me couging up a storm on the porch in Papaw's slippers and Grammy's down vest, three times too big for me. Bless our hearts.

Once I recovered and we could find a flight out, we came back late Saturday, where Joel came in the SNOW THAT NC GOT to get us. Bless everyone that helped us through that week. Yall don’t know how much your thoughts, prayers, cards, food, hugs, words, and plastic cups meant. Really. And I can’t explain how much I miss my grandfather. It’s still sinking in, since he was in such wonderful shape last month. In fact, I had just shown him how to bookmark this blog and Joel’s so he could keep up with us through pictures. When I was in middle school he bought me a digital camera so I could take pictures. He gave me money for a newer one in high school, too. I’ll never forget his enthusiasm for technology and the thousands of pictures he encouraged me to take. Between Grammy, Papaw, and me we could fill a house (they sort of did!) So many people came through that visitation line telling me how he fit the description of a gentleman, and that is the truth. He loved family, photos, delicious food, travel, the Boeuf River, farming, and his dogs. And the order depended on the day!

ps. If this post is chaotic, it's a reflection of that week of grief and sickness. Here are some of my favorite photos: