We're not Immortal After All

Dixie Carter died.

I didn't think things like that happened to people like us, Southern Ladies. I've been so naive. Now this. It changes everything. If something so unmentionable can happen to Dixie Carter then it can probably happen to me, too.

Am I ready? Have I hostessed enough garden parties, attended enough UDC meetings, baked enough casseroles, been to enough football games, grown enough tomatoes, eaten enough cucumber finger sandwiches, taught enough Bible School, mulched enough magnolias to enter through the pearly gates and recline in my heavenly home along the banks of the Suwannee River?

Miss Dixie, I hope that sweet chariot swings low for you and carries you on home, where the angels sit you down to a fine meal of fried chicken, okra, butterbeans, summer squash, sweet iced tea, and Mama's homemade mashed potatoes. And I hope all your kinfolk, who went on before you, are gathered around that table, too, talking and laughing and telling stories and generally welcoming you. What a wonderful celebration it must be when a Southern Lady gets to the other side.

Rest in peace, Miss Dixie. All us girls down here, now that we know the Lord will send for us as someday, as well, have got a whole lot of silver to polish so we can be ready.

You hear that, Lord! A whole, heap of a lot of silver to polish, so please don't show up for the party before I'm expecting you.

Southern Girls Living Fearlessly

. . . failure meant a stripping away of the inessential. I stopped pretending to myself that I was anything other than what I was.
--J.K Rowling, June 5, 2008, Commencement Address to Harvard Graduating Class

I must have been about 12 years-old when my grandmother, Mama T, visiting us from Memphis, sat me down and said in her aristocratic drawl, "Lucy, I think it's time I told you about our heritage." A few years later, when she met one of my high school boyfriends, she calculatedly whispered loud enough for him to hear, "Tell me, who are his people?" She didn't want me shooting the fish at the bottom of the barrel, for certain.

My heritage includes American heroes, Civil War officers, powerful family matriarchs, n'er-do-wells, outlaws (by trade and by name), and some sorry s.o.b.'s, alike. My people are genteel, aristocratic, alcoholic, crazy, and proper as they come. Our background initiated Mama T and her female descendants into exclusive women's organizations like Junior League, Daughters of the American Revolution, United Daughters of the Confederacy, Colonial Dames, the local garden club, and the choice bridge group. She took exquisite pride in who we are and where we come from.

Like most southern ladies - like my grandmother - I learned to define myself by my name, my husband's occupation and income, who my daddy is, my home, my family history, my "stuff." Belles cling to these things like a lifeline and display them like neon letters on theater marquees, lest anyone mistake us for someone or something we are not.

Who are we, though, when these things fall apart, stripped away from us? Divorce, financial ruin, family scandal, downsizing - these things DON'T jive with our personal definitions. As J.K. Rowling told the Harvard graduates, ". . . we all have to decide for ourselves what constitutes failure, but the world is quite eager to give you a set of criteria if you let it." And as we all know, the southern world, for all its sweetness and charm, gladly welcomes the drama of a failed Dixie diva. Front porch frequenters thrive on it.

But in these circumstances, we are forced to make a decision to drown in our sorrows or discover who we really are. We must, therefore, define ourselves, following three essential rules:

1. Let go of the need to rely on breeding, history, or husband to tell the world just who you are. Those things are all fine and well, but they aren't the complete depth and breadth of us.
2. NEVAH, NEVAH let other people decide for you.
3. Be flexible. Change your definition as needed.

My own personal definition:

• Lucy, n. - A woman of great talent who is always happy, but never content.
  

Today's Assignment: Follow the three rules and define yourself. Write it on a sticky note and put it on your monitor. Record it in your Book of Lists.