Joy In The Morning

 Wallace Morning Bowen, Jr. died early this week. He was my friend, who had the best middle name ever.
  We all called him 'Wally'. He was a father, a brother, an uncle, a hero, a brilliant man, and to me he was just 'Wally'.
   I would say from a very early age he was competitive. Having known him since kindergarten age, we went to church together. Anderson Methodist church, on the corner, near the library. Close to The Polar Bear!!!
Maybe it was Pearl Street, not that it is important, just sometimes my mind wanders....
  In early Sunday school classes, we mainly played games, he tried to beat me at musical chairs every week!!
Later in his life, sports would consume him, and watch out people, he was going to win, or die trying. Tennis, Baseball, Football ( he was our quarterback) ( we won every game), and basketball, probably more. I think as an adult he kept up all his sports, and added running. He was competitive, even to himself.
  Our names both beginning with the letter 'B', he sat behind me in far toooo many classes, my whole life.
  We would argue over grades and anything else we could think of. In Mr. Cipolats class, on many occasions, we would fight for his attention ( we both loved history and attention!) I passed him his test paper and he had 'A' and I may have had a 'C', he would smile, and when it got quiet, I would whisper, "I had a date last night, Bowen, don't mess with me!" Then he would hit me with the pencil, we were like brother and sister all of our lives.
   The last time he spent the night at our house, in Atlanta, he could still walk, but his arms and hands were limp, and not working, so well. We had a great visit, no subject was left upturned.He would look at me, some before he spoke, like " Can I say this in front of your husband?"  I would laugh hard, " Bill married me, and all of you and our stories, Go for it!!!"
  Upon leaving, we stood outside alone, hugging for way too long. He pulled back a little, looking at me in the eye and said, " I know what you are doing, trying to remember me, my smell, my looks, take in all of me! well stop it, Let me Go!" I saw him again, at his 60th birthday party, Susan and I, got lost, but we were there loving on that boy.
         OK, you win Wally, I have to let you go. ALS took you from us, but only your body, we are left with the best.
      You will always be a worker bee, for all the right reasons.
       Thank you for the pleasure of knowing you and loving you.
       I say this for myself and all of the Class of 70, you will always be our hero.

       I end with this Mary Oliver poem. ( We sometimes forget how much you loved the arts)
                                               I go down to the shore in the morning
                                               and depending on the hour the waves
                                               are rolling in or moving out,
                                               and I say, oh, I am miserable,
                                               what shall-
                                               what should I do? And the sea says
                                                in its lovely voice:
                                               Excuse me, I have work to do.